


The Most Cursed of Hands

by Brownbeard_the_Pirate



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Sayu, Gen, Multi, Sayu Has the Death Note
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15557367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brownbeard_the_Pirate/pseuds/Brownbeard_the_Pirate
Summary: They say that, for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost. Any one change in the flow of events could have catastrophic consequences down the road. On that fateful day, when Ryuk dropped the Death Note, it wasn't Light that picked it up. Instead, it was his little sister, Sayu. [Basically, a Death Note FWoaN with Sayu as the MC instead of Light].





	1. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’m sorry for this… Oh, I’m not saying that to anyone who might be reading this. I’m saying it preemptively to Sayu. After everything she went through in canon, I sort of feel bad for doing this to her. Of course, my interest in seeing what happens as a result of this one change outweighs any sympathy I have for the characters in this series. That’s why I’m doing it…
> 
> In fact, you know what, I don’t have any sympathy for the characters in this series. I just want to do science. I have no regard whatsoever for the lives I’m about to utterly destroy in the process of playing God with the lives of these innocent fictional characters. I’m an asshole god. Heh. Heh heh. HehahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA! YES! I AM THE GOD OF THIS NEW WORLD!
> 
> Now bow.
> 
> Also, I don’t own Death Note. No shit.

Yagami Sayu yawned into her breakfast. She’d lost track of time last night browsing fansites for her Ryuga Hideki, and had managed to stay up until three in the morning when she’d sort of just passed out at her computer. Now she was running on next to no sleep, she still had to go to school, and, to top it all off, she’d forgotten to do her homework. Today was just going to be… the best.

As she tried to keep her mind off how awful of a day today was already turning out to be, the droning of a news reporter on the living room television vaguely caught her half-there interest.

“Last night, a man named Shibuimaru Takuo escaped from holding and is currently at large. Shibuimaru is a suspect in the sexual assault of multiple girls ranging from 14 to 20. Any information that leads to the arrest of this individual would be greatly appreciated.”

“Sayu,” said her mother, Yagami Sachiko. “I don’t want you walking home from school by yourself while that man is still out there. If you can’t travel with your friends or make it to the bus, I want you to stay put and call Light.”

“Yes, mom,” she said, barely paying any mind to what was being said.

“Light, I want you to keep your phone on, just in case. You’ll do that, right?”

“Of course, mom” Light mumbled as he led a piece of toast into his mouth.

The rest of the morning was a blur and she soon found herself in her homeroom class. As the teacher called role, she stared out the window, dozing off in her seat and daydreaming of having a romantic outing with Ryuga Hideki.

She was startled from her daydreaming a while later by the sound of a ruler slapping her desk. She turned with a start to find her math teacher, Ms. Kitahara, staring her down like she’d just killed the woman’s cat.

“Miss Yagami. What is your problem?”

“Huh?” Sayu said intelligently.

“Where is your homework? And moreover, why are you sleeping in class?”

Sayu stared blankly at her before she suddenly remembered what was going on.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I, uh…” She rifled around in her bag and pulled out the crumpled sheet, which was utterly devoid of any signs of work. “I… kind of…”

Ms. Kitahara pinched the bridge of her nose and made her way back to the front of the class. She pulled out a slip of paper and began writing. Sayu wanted to argue, but she knew this was coming one way or another. Might as well get it over with. The teacher came back to her desk and handed her the slip of paper.

“Detention. After school on Friday. In the future, I suggest you clean yourself up, get proper sleep, and do your homework.” Sayu rolled her eyes and nodded along, not really caring about what the woman was saying. This seemed to infuriate her. “Young lady. It’s time for you to realize you won’t be attending school on the state’s dime for much longer. You need to buckle down and start thinking seriously about what you’re going to do with your life. You can’t just keep floating by through life in a daze forever.” Done ranting, she started making her way back to the front again, but turned around, a frown on her face. “And wipe your mouth.”

To the snickering of the class, Sayu embarrassedly wiped at the dried drool around her mouth.

At lunch, her friends teased her about how “Ms. Kitahara really laid into her” and how they’d “never seen her so mad before.” Sayu wasn’t particularly interested. Really, the only thing she was interested in at that point was going to bed. She barely even touched her lunch.

Back in the classroom, it was everyone’s least favorite class: English. Sayu supposed she did okay. Not great, but okay. If she was being honest, she didn’t really see the point of learning English. It’s not like she was planning to go outside Japan or anything.

Planning… Ms. Kitahara’s rant came back to her all of a sudden. She’d been annoyed at the time, but… Ms. Kitahara was right. What _was_ Sayu’s plan? What did she want to do with her life? As much as it hurt to admit it, she couldn’t very well sit around staring at fansites for her Ryuga Hideki until the inevitable heat death of the universe. Maybe she could become an actress? Then she might actually get the chance to meet him. The only problem with that was that she’d never acted in anything ever. She had no idea if she could pull it off, much less make it that big. She could always be a pop singer. Of course, the fact that she was tone deaf was a bit of an obstacle. Her fat fingers were too clumsy to play an instrument, either, so that was out.

Maybe she really should just focus on her academics. Tuning back into the lesson at hand, she vaguely heard a student struggle their way through translating a line into English. Something about “God” or something. It didn’t really make much sense to Sayu.

As she was lost in thought about what career path she wanted to choose, she found herself staring out the window at the exact wrong time. A black object fell from the sky, like a dark streak briefly adding a splash of unfitting color to the scene of the courtyard below, throwing the entire image off-kilter. She blinked and squinted, trying to get a better look at what the object was. It was a sort of oblong black blot on the ground, though she thought she could just make out white writing on the top. It was too far away to make anything out.

For the remainder of her classes that day, she stared out the window at the blot. There was… something about it. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was like the blot was… calling to her. Asking her to come investigate. Like a compulsion. It was the strangest thing, and a little unnerving.

After the final bell rang, she walked out of the class in a hurry, right past her friends, who were calling after her. She shouted a quick “I’ll catch up with you in a bit” behind her and made for the courtyard. Hopefully, she was the only one that had noticed it.

When she reached it, she looked around frantically and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no one coming in that direction. She looked down at the black shape at her feet to find… a notebook. What? Seriously? That’s all it was?

Still, something about the notebook made her want to find out more. She wished she could figure out what this feeling was. It was starting to get a little disturbing. Pushing some loose hair behind an ear, she bent down and picked up the notebook, then went and leaned against a nearby tree and began reading.

The white text on the front, in a font she didn’t recognize, was clearly in English. Fan-frigging-tastic. Her favorite subject. Mentally translating the text into Japanese was a bit of a task, but she figured that it said, “Death Note.” So, what, like a notebook of death? Wasn’t that just cliché? She was already starting to feel foolish for getting so worked up over something that was clearly a dumb prank. Nonetheless, she pressed on.  
She struggled through the first two rules for several minutes before she deciphered,

  1. The human whose name is written in this note shall die, and
  2. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person’s face in mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.



She rolled her eyes. This prank was getting more cliché by the moment. And significantly less funny. Really, what kind of moron would someone have to be to fall for something like this? Having decided she’d had enough, she started walking toward home, dropping the notebook back on the ground as she went. When she was several meters away from the notebook, she stopped. There was almost like a… tugging in the back of her mind. She couldn’t quite explain it, but for some reason, she felt compelled to go back. She looked back at the notebook, just lying on the ground, perfectly innocent, yet almost beckoning her back towards it. It was obviously just a trick of the mind. She was just tired. Yeah, that was it.

The notebook was just a dumb prank (albeit a seriously elaborate one) by some dumb kid trying to be edgy and Sayu was just tired. So why? Why did she go back and pocket the notebook? That was a question she would be asking herself again and again for a long time to come.

She felt on edge the whole walk home. She could almost feel the weight of the notebook’s presence in her bag, like some unfathomable providence that was utterly beyond the comprehension of someone as weak-minded as Yagami Sayu. The entire time, she was lost in thought about the notebook. Those rules. What the notebook claimed to be. That wasn’t something to be trifled with on a whim.

She was halfway home when she remembered that her Gameboy Advance had run out of batteries. ‘Man,’ she thought, ‘I really am losing it.’ She cursed under her breath and abruptly altered her path, heading for the 7-Eleven close by. She figured that if her mom got worried about where she’d been, she’d just say she went to hang out at her friend Mika's house. She’d buy that excuse.

She walked into the store and was greeted by the shopkeeper. She’d been in there enough times that the older man knew her face, if not her name. She went to go pick up batteries when a magazine caught her eye. On the cover was the face of the pop idol, Ryuga Hideki. She had to exert a great deal of self-control to keep from squeeing right there in the store. She barely had time to read about him breaking up with his most recent girlfriend when she was shocked back into reality by an ear-piercing scream outside the store.

She looked up and her eyes widened and her face paled when she realized what was happening outside. There was a group of guys on motorcycles outside the store, and between the guys was a young woman. She couldn’t have been much older than Sayu herself. And the things those men were doing… Her heart leapt into her throat when she laid eyes on one of the men. She recognized that face. It was Shibuimaru Takuo, the fugitive wanted for sexually assaulting young girls. Her hands shook as she withdrew her cell phone and dialed the police. She struggled to retain an ounce of composure as the lady on the other end of the line reassured her that police were on their way.

As the struggle outside continued, Sayu realized something and paled. In the time it would take the police to arrive, those men outside could do any number of terrible things to that poor girl. Sayu couldn’t very well jump in like some sort of anime character and save the day. She’d just get herself raped or killed (or both) in the process, and she probably wouldn’t succeed in saving that girl either. ‘There must be something I can do,’ she thought.

Then, suddenly, an idea came to her. And, as soon as it did, she was simultaneously relieved and horrified. Relieved that there may be something she could do. Horrified at the thought of what she had just considered attempting. She backed away from the window and absently reached into her bag, one hand grasping the alleged “Notebook of Death” and the other hand grasping a pen. She knew, logically, that it didn’t make sense. There was no way it would actually work. She felt absurd for even thinking it. Still, it couldn’t hurt. On the off chance that it did work, she’d be saving an innocent girl from being raped. But… if she wrote down someone’s name in the notebook and that person died, would that make her a murderer?

… It was completely ludicrous. ‘It won’t work anyways,’ she reassured herself. Of course it wouldn’t. There was no way it could. And if that person died, really, she’d be doing the world, and more importantly that poor girl, a favor.

Heart racing and hands shaking, she struggled to contain her nerves as she opened the notebook and did her best to write the kanji as she remembered it from the broadcast that morning down on the first blank page in the notebook. For what felt like an eternity, she waited with baited breath to see if anything would happen. After a couple dozen seconds had passed, she was starting to kick herself for being so foolish. Of course it wouldn’t work. How could she be such an idiot?

And then, something terrifying happened. The commotion outside came to an abrupt halt. And then, if it was possible, the craziness ramped up even more. Shibuimaru let go of the girl, who took the opportunity to flee like her life depended on it, and he suddenly grasped at his chest. The other men with him looked at him frantically, seeming to ask him if he was okay, and growing increasingly frantic as it became clear that he wasn’t. And then, just like that, he collapsed to the ground.

Sayu’s legs grew wobbly and she had to hold onto a nearby shelf to keep from collapsing to the ground herself. The blood drained from her face and her mind raced in circles. With shaking hands, she stuffed the notebook and pen back into her bag and stiffly walked out of the store, completely forgetting the original reason she’d gone there in the first place. The other men that were with Shibuimaru had fled, and the body of the wanted felon lay on the ground, nothing clearly wrong with him except for the look of terror on his face and the increasingly stiff arm clutching his chest. Sayu stared at the body for a while, her mind blank.

A couple minutes later, the police arrived. Sayu had already stalked off listlessly in the direction of her house by then. No one at the scene questioned her, or even really noticed her. Everyone there was more focused on trying to get a look at the body. Sayu, in their eyes, was just another rubbernecking bystander.

When she finally arrived at the house, it was to the smell of mom's cooking. At least one thing hadn’t changed today. That was good to know. Inside, mom and Light were sitting at the table, talking about the upcoming nationwide practice exam. When they heard her come in, both of them shot up from their respective seats and ganged up on her.

“Sayu,” mom said, a little frantically, “Where on Earth have you been?”

“Yeah,” said Light, “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

And then they saw her face, her pale skin, and took notice of her overall bizarre demeanor.

Mom, a concerned look on her face, put the back of her hand to Sayu’s forehead. “Sweetie, you don’t look good. What happened?”

“Huh?” Sayu said, a bit distracted. “Oh, I uh…” She stopped. What was she about to say? _Oh, hey mom. I think I just killed a man. No big deal or anything._ Ridiculous. “I, uh, went over to Mika's house.”

“Well, you’re not warm,” mom said, a bit more at ease but with concern still etched into her features. “Actually, you seem a little clammy.”

“I’m just tired, is all. I had a long day at school. I think I’m just gonna go to bed, okay?”

“Are you sure? Have you eaten?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “I ate at Mika’s house. Her mom made yakitori and fried rice.”

“Okay,” mom accepted, still concerned. “But, if there are any problems, don’t hesitate to talk to me.”

“Right.”

“What about your homework?” asked Light.

“Do you think you’ll be up to doing it?”

“I…” she trailed off. She looked Light in the face, and a pit welled up in her stomach.

Suddenly, she felt an intense desire to keep him away from the contents of her bag, almost like a mother protecting her young.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll wake up in a couple hours and do it then.”

Light looked skeptical (and he was probably right to be), but didn’t push the issue.

Everything settled, Sayu made her way toward the stairs, though in her haste, she forgot to switch to her house slippers and nearly tripped over herself swapping them out. Once she was up the stairs, she headed straight for the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door and stood in front of the sink, gripping the counter for support. She turned on the water, and stared into the sink, watching the water run down from the pipe, into the bowl, and down the drain. With shaky hands, she cupped a bit of water and splashed her face.

She looked up into the bathroom mirror. Her reflection looked pretty bad. Her face was pale, her hair and clothes disheveled, large bags forming under her eyes. She looked like she’d aged five years in just a single day.

Now, in the silence and safety of home, it started to dawn on her, with gut-wrenching horror welling up in her stomach, exactly what she’d just done. She killed that man. She wrote his name in the notebook and he’d died. Were it not for her actions, he would still be alive. She’d killed a man today. She was a murderer. She, Yagami Sayu, daughter of NPA Chief Superintendent Yagami Soichiro, was a cold-blooded murderer.

Suddenly, her stomach flared up in pain. She raced to the toilet, pulled the lid up, and just barely managed to make sure that the contents of her stomach ended up inside the toilet and not on the floor. That would not be fun to deal with. She stared into the water, into the broken and distorted reflection of herself in the water. She stared and stared, for several long minutes.

After a while, her knees started to ache from direct contact with the hard floor, so she stood and flushed the toilet. She watched, transfixed, as her reflection in the water became more distorted and then washed down the drain. She went to the sink, splashed water in her face, and then brushed her teeth three times to get the taste out. In spite of having just thrown up, she found that she didn’t feel any less sick.

She stiffly walked to her bedroom, threw her bag haphazardly on the floor next to her bed, and dropped onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of her school uniform. She just didn’t have the energy for that right now. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to push what she’d done out of her mind, to no avail.

After a while, her gaze hardened. The pit in her stomach didn’t go away, but it started to hurt less. ‘Why am I kicking myself?’ she thought. ‘I did the right thing. The only thing I could do, really. Maybe I should have let the police deal with it, but there’s no telling if they would’ve made it in time. And… and I saved that poor girl. I… I did the right thing. I’m a good person. I’m… a hero.’

At the same time as she thought these things, another part of herself questioned her even more intensely. Calling into question the very idea that she’d actually done anything at all (except contacting the police, of course, which is what anyone would’ve done in that situation). Of course it couldn’t have been her fault. It was probably a coincidence. Maybe the man didn’t take good care of himself, and his own health on top of the excitement of what he was doing was too much for him to handle. Really. A notebook that kills people whose names are written into it? How absurd. The very idea that a human could gain such godlike power in such a ridiculously simple way. What a grand and intoxicating innocence. She almost felt like slapping herself in the face for being so stupid.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. For one reason or another, that notebook kept drawing her attention towards it, whether she wanted to or not. She wanted to believe it was just some sick joke. That that man’s death had just been pure coincidence. But the more she thought about it, the more unlikely that seemed. The man had appeared to be in perfect health, and it wasn’t normal for a young, healthy person to just drop dead of a heart attack for no apparent reason. But, the other explanation was just…

She wanted to believe it was coincidence. She wanted to believe that she hadn’t just become a murderer. She wanted to believe so much. But as she looked at her bag, and considered the strange notebook it contained, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t.


	2. Cause and Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Lord Brownbeard. Can you hear me?
> 
> Yes, master… Where is my paper that says I own Death Note? Is it… safe? Is it alright?
> 
> It seems, in your anger, you destroyed it.
> 
> I? I couldn’t have. It was right there. I felt it. *uses the Force to destroy my surroundings and steps out of my bonds* Argh. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

L Lawliet was a lot of things. Sloppy. Abrasive. Odd. Had a little too much fondness for sweets. But one thing he was not was a fool. There was a reason he was considered the world’s greatest detective, the one that nations called upon when a case seemed unsolvable.

It was for this reason, perhaps, that he was currently bored out of his mind. He sat (or rather, crouched) on a chair in the hotel room Watari had booked for him, staring at his laptop. His mind raced around in circles, longing to sink its proverbial teeth into something juicy. And yet… it seemed there was nothing. Nothing that could satisfy his hunger for a complex puzzle. Nothing that could quell his maddening boredom.

He’d just arrived in Tokyo from Hong Kong, having recently solved a case involving a human trafficking ring that police had been having difficulty nailing down for years. It had been so far beneath him that it’d taken him all of about a week to crack the case wide open, and now, the streets of Hong Kong were clean of one less group of wolves in sheep’s clothing. He’d taken the case under the alias of Eraldo Coil, too. It hadn’t even been something requiring the great L to step in and intervene. That and he’d been running a little low on cash.

As he felt his eyes begin to sizzle from staring at the bright screen in his dark room for so long without blinking, he reached for the cup of coffee that Watari had just brought him. One sip told him it was far too bitter, so he grabbed a box of sugar cubes and began scooping handfuls of them into the cup. Watari sometimes jokingly asked him if he wanted any coffee with his sugar, but he’d personally never found it particularly funny. Frankly, he felt offended at the idea that anyone could drink this nasty stuff without a heaping helping of sugar. The only reason he drank it at all was that nothing else was as effective at keeping him awake.

He was startled out of his grumbling by the opening of the door to his room. One quick glance over his shoulder told him it was Watari. He was surprised the man was still awake at this hour. The man’s fortitude in spite of his advanced age always surprised L.

“What is it, Watari?” he asked, a little bit of hope creeping into his otherwise flat tone. Maybe it was an actually interesting case for once. Wouldn’t that be dandy?

“Well, sir,” Watari began, “It may be nothing, but I’ve come across a surveillance tape that I think you may find interesting.” He carefully crossed the dark room, knowing better than to suddenly turn the light on when L clearly wanted it left off, and handed L the cassette tape.

L turned the cassette tape over in his hands. The writing on the plastic case read, “7-Eleven Surveillance Tape” and underneath that, a time stamp: “28 November, 2003; 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM.” As curious as L was to find out what had gotten Watari so worked up over a surveillance tape, he also couldn’t help the feeling that this would, at best, just be another Hong Kong fiasco. Maybe he was just growing cynical. Well, more so than usual, in any case.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to find out. He stood from the chair, popped the cassette tape into the VCR on the shelf under the hotel television, and assumed his signature seated pose on the couch. Upon turning on the TV, he saw a greyscale view of the outside of an ordinary-looking convenience store. Nothing interesting was happening yet, but, according to the writing on the plastic case, this tape covered two hours of surveillance. He’d likely be here a while. Almost seeming to know what he wanted before he knew himself, Watari came up behind him and handed him the cup of coffee he’d forgotten in his haste.

For about half an hour, L watched the dry recording of the comings and goings of the small store. Nothing had really happened yet. A man buying a piece of jerky, a woman buying laundry detergent, a boy trying to convince his parents to buy him a chocolate bar, a teenage girl looking way too excitedly at a magazine stand. Nothing at all out of the ordinary.

And then, the recording started getting a little exciting. A young woman, probably around 18 or 19 at the oldest, was accosted by a group of men on motorcycles. She was clearly not interested in whatever it was they were telling her, and then one of the men grabbed her and started trying to rip her clothes off while the woman struggled in vain against him.

As interesting as this all was, this really seemed like something the regular police could deal with on their own. The idiot was doing this out in the open, in plain view of security cameras and dozens of witnesses. He would almost certainly be arrested without L’s interference. Why on Earth had Watari seen fit to show this to… him?

Wait a second. What was happening? L blinked and leaned in a bit closer, nearly falling off the couch in the process of trying to get a better look, though Watari caught him before he tumbled to the floor. One of the men on screen, seemingly the leader of the group of idiotic hooligans, suddenly let the girl go and started clutching at his chest, apparently in a great deal of pain judging by the look on his face. The other men around him became frantic, trying to do something, anything, but to no avail. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. The man collapsed to the ground, dead, apparently of a sudden inexplicable heart attack. The other men booked it, a crowd gathered around trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and the police arrived on the scene a couple minutes later.

L paused the tape and just stared at the screen, dumbfounded at what he’d just witnessed. “Watari,” he said, a bit quietly. “Was this,” he pointed at the man on the screen who’d just died of a heart attack, “what you wanted to show me?”

“Yes, it is,” Watari said matter-of-factly. “I thought you might be interested, at the least. It is quite unusual.”

“Yeah,” L mumbled, biting the nail of his right thumb. His thoughts raced, trying to figure out what could’ve caused it. The more he thought about it, the less sense what he’d just witnessed made. The man couldn’t have been more than a few years older than himself, and he seemed in good enough shape. L supposed the man could’ve simply had heart problems unrelated to what would typically be thought of when someone has a heart attack. “Watari,” he asked over his shoulder, “Who was this man?”

“This man was Shibuimaru Takuo. A convicted felon, local to the Shinjuku area, who’d recently escaped from holding. He was to be charged with multiple counts of sexual assault.”

“I see.” L bit the nail a bit more, and accidentally broke it at an odd angle, breaking the skin and causing blood to drip down. Watari wordlessly handed him a handkerchief, and he quickly wrapped it around the wounded phalange, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“I don’t suppose you could get ahold of a copy of this man’s medical records? And a copy of the autopsy report, as well. I want to check something.”

“I can try, but I can’t guarantee they’ll tell you the full story.”

L nodded and Watari walked out of the room to fulfill L’s request.

For a while, L simply sat there in silence, eyes transfixed on the screen, occasionally rewinding the tape and re-watching the scene. Thoughts raced through his head at a million kilometers an hour, trying to come up with some scenario under which the scene he’d watched made sense, and coming up with a big fat goose egg.

In any case, until he received a copy of the man’s medical records and the autopsy report, there wasn’t much point in fretting over it. He’d just pop a blood vessel that way. He filed the incident in his mind under “Potentially Important,” and went back to his laptop to try to find something interesting to do.

The scene of the man suddenly dropping dead of an inexplicable heart attack never left L’s mind for the remainder of the night.

~o~

Sayu awoke in a cold sweat, scrambling in her bed sheets, before rolling over and tumbling to the floor, landing on her front. Her breathing was rapid and out of control, and her heartbeat was frantic. For a moment, she simply lay there on the floor, trying to catch her breath and calm herself down.

She’d been having a nightmare. In her mind’s eye, the scene at the 7-Eleven had been replaying itself in a loop. The woman being attacked, the phone call to the police, her writing in the notebook, that man Shibuimaru dropping dead of a heart attack. Again and again. And every time it repeated, when she walked outside, rather than staring at the body, all the people in the crowd stared at her, accusatory glares marring their faces. And then, she’d look down at Shibuimaru, and he almost seemed to be looking back up into her eyes, as if to say, “Why? Why did you do this to me? You murderer.” Soon after, the police would arrive and haul her off in handcuffs. The faces of the policemen arresting her would be curled in disgust. She’d look ahead and see dad, mom, and Light, all looking away from her, ashamed to even be associated with such a disgusting creature as her. The scene would end with the policemen putting her into an electric chair. Even now, she could still feel a sharp tingling sensation dancing over her skin, as if it had really happened. This same scene must have repeated itself over a dozen times.

But now, she was staring at the floor of her bedroom. She was safe. She wasn’t on her way to the electric chair for murder. Her family had no idea what she’d done. But she knew.

Slowly, her racing heart slowed, her breathing evened out, and her quivering ceased. She stood up from the floor and stretched her aching limbs, popping joints. She rolled her head and her neck made a loud cracking noise. She looked down and saw that she was still wearing her school uniform. She looked over at her bedside alarm clock. It read 1:24 AM. It was the middle of the night. ‘I should probably just go back to bed,’ she thought. Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t in the cards. Not after a nightmare like that.

Knowing better, she swapped her school uniform out for some casual clothes and took them downstairs. She spent the better part of 45 minutes ironing the wrinkles out of her clothes. She couldn’t very well go to school in as sorry a state as she had yesterday. All the while, she tried desperately to push yesterday’s events out of her mind. But the nightmare kept coming back, the face of the man she’d heartlessly murdered haunting her relentlessly.

Once she was done, she went back upstairs, laid her school uniform out neatly on her bed, and went to take a shower. It seemed however, that no matter how much she scrubbed, while the physical grime and sweat came off no problem, the weight of her sin did not. She scrubbed her hands until the flesh began to turn red, but the bloodstains simply would not wash out.

After drying off and getting dressed, she pondered what to do next. Her mind turned toward that notebook. She looked over at the bag, still laid out haphazardly on the floor, exactly the way she’d left it last night. She had homework to complete, but somehow, at the moment, that seemed so utterly insignificant.

She picked the bag up off the floor and plopped down on the bed, turning on the bedside lamp. She pulled the notebook out and opened it to the first page. On it, exactly where she’d left it, was the unmistakable evidence of the terrible crime she’d committed yesterday. In sloppy, only slightly legible handwriting, were the kanji that made up Shibuimaru Takuo’s name. Another pit appeared in her stomach at the very sight of it, but this time, she thankfully didn’t vomit. Even if her body had tried to, there probably wasn’t anything left _to_ vomit. Not after yesterday.

A thought occurred to her. She flipped the notebook back to the rules page on the back of the front cover. She had only read two of the rules; there were still three more left to read. Putting the notebook under the lamp, she strained her eyes to try to make sense of the foreign, squiggly-looking moon glyphs on the page. She didn’t know how much time she lay there trying to translate the text into Japanese in her head, but finally, she came up with:

  1. If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person’s name, it will happen,
  2. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack, and
  3. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written within the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.



As ridiculous as it had seemed yesterday, now, there seemed to be something much more sinister about the notebook. It didn’t seem like a joke anymore. Of course, there was always the distinct possibility that what had occurred yesterday really was just a coincidence, as unlikely as it seemed. The only way for her to know for sure would be to… test the notebook one more time. Sayu felt sick at the very idea of doing such a thing. If it didn’t work, then that cleared her name and her guilty conscience. If it did, though…

Even as she considered the moral ramifications of what she was planning to do, a thought occurred. She had saved that girl yesterday by using the notebook. She certainly didn’t want to use its power on an _innocent_ person. So, as bad as it was, wouldn’t it be best if she used it on another criminal? To make sure that the notebook really worked, it would have to be something where she could confirm the results immediately.

She shook her head. ‘What the hell am I thinking?’ she thought. ‘Am I seriously considering committing murder… again?! What is wrong with me?’

Another, much more cynical, part of her asked, ‘Even if it is murder, is it really wrong to kill some criminal? Like the guy yesterday. A guy like that… Maybe people like that deserve to die. Maybe, the world would be better off without such people.’

Still, though, it would be best to save it for later. She had homework to do. She looked at her clock. 2:56 AM. Not much time to do it, either. She didn’t want to get _another_ detention.

~o~

As Chief Superintendent of the Japanese National Police Agency, Yagami Soichiro was a busy man. Perhaps, too busy. It was unfortunate really. He knew his son, Light, wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a police officer. But, all the same, he couldn’t be sure about how Light and Sayu felt about the crazy hours he sometimes had to work. After all, not many children would be happy knowing that their father often couldn’t make time for them and that there may come a day when he simply wouldn’t return home ever again. Being a police officer was dangerous, demanding work, and not something he would wish on his worst enemy.

It was at times like this that Soichiro truly felt his age. Just yesterday, a man had escaped capture after taking a group of school children hostage, in the process critically wounding three officers; one of those officers had succumbed to his injuries just a couple of hours ago. Which was why, at around 1:00 PM that day, Soichiro, along with a younger colleague by the name of Aizawa Shuichi, was at the man’s house, trying to find some way to console the man’s widow and two young children. As he looked at the devastating scene of a family which had lost its father, he couldn’t help but think that, one day, this exact scene may end up playing out with his own family. And Aizawa himself had his own, much younger family. The same thoughts were probably racing through his head as well.

When they returned to the car, Soichiro simply stared out the windshield, absorbed in thought. Aizawa seemed to be doing the same. The funeral proceedings were already being scheduled, and the family had been informed. There wasn’t anything else for them to do except hope beyond hope that they wouldn’t have to do this two more times today.

After several minutes of sitting in uncomfortable silence, Aizawa spoke up. “Chief,” he said, “maybe you should take the rest of the day off. Go see your family.”

Soichiro stared at the steering wheel. “Hm,” he mumbled at length. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” He looked Aizawa in the eye. “You should probably do the same.”

The two men stared forward. After a while, Soichiro seemed to make up his mind. He put the car in first gear, eased off the clutch while pressing down the gas, and began driving. At first he wasn’t really sure which direction he was going in, but it didn’t end up mattering.

The car’s radio crackled to life. “All units,” the dispatcher said clinically, “We have reports of a 2-11 at the SMBC Trust Bank, Shinjuku Minamiguchi Branch. I repeat, a 2-11 at the SMBC Trust Bank, Shinjuku Minamiguchi Branch. Two suspects, well-armed. All individuals in the building have been taken hostage.”

For a brief moment, Soichiro and Aizawa looked at each other. “We probably shouldn’t get involved,” said Aizawa, but even as he said it, his features seemed to harden, and he started checking over his gun, making sure everything was in working order. As Soichiro considered the situation and whether or not he should go, the car seemed to change directions on its own, in the direction of the bank.

They arrived at the scene of the crime at around 2:45 PM, thirty-five minutes after the call came in. Aizawa was the first to step out of the car, making a beeline straight for the police barricade that had already been set up around the perimeter of the building. Meanwhile, Soichiro took a moment to check over his own gun before stepping out himself and meeting up with Aizawa at the barricade.

“Chief!” said one of the officers present, one Mogi Kanzo. “I didn’t think you’d be coming here.”

“It was sort of a last minute decision,” said Soichiro. “What’s the situation?”

Another officer, Ide Hideki, took over. “We’ve got the building surrounded. We haven’t been able to make a move inside, yet. One of the suspects has a 7.62 mm AK-74 and threatened to start killing hostages if we moved in.”

“You’ll never guess who it is,” said yet another officer, Ukita Hirokazu. Both Soichiro and Aizawa blinked at him in mild confusion. Ukita sighed. “It’s that Otoharada scumbag.”

Soichiro grit his teeth at that announcement. Otoharada Kuro, the man responsible for yesterday’s hostage situation. The man responsible for murdering a police officer and critically injuring two others.

“What should we do, Chief?” asked Mogi.

Soichiro considered the situation. With this much manpower, it would be a simple thing to overpower the suspects with brute force, but with so many civilians in between them who could get caught in the crossfire, not to mentions Otoharada’s very not idle threat, such a solution would ultimately do far more harm than good. Perhaps if they had a sniper get in position and take aim at Otoharada, they could take him out without hurting any of the hostages, but the location of the second suspect was unknown. The other man could come out and start shooting hostages if they did that. The sniper could probably take him out quickly enough, but not before a few hostages met a grisly end.

Suddenly, Soichiro thought of something. The second he did, he instantly knew the others wouldn’t like it.

~o~

Sayu was having a marginally better day than yesterday. At least she had turned in her (admittedly half-assed) homework and hadn’t provoked a teacher to yell at her today, so that was an improvement. Even so, she found that she was having a hard time focusing on classes. Every time she tried, her mind drifted back to the notebook currently sitting in the middle of a pile of books on her desk. Frankly, she was starting to think that killing people wasn’t the notebook’s only supernatural power. It was starting to get a little ridiculous.

She was, once again, sitting bored in her English class, barely even trying to pay attention to the program they were watching. She kept going back over the rules laid out in the front cover of the notebook, again and again.

  1. The human whose name is written in this note shall die.
  2. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person’s face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.
  3. If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person’s name, it will happen.
  4. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.
  5. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.



Now that she thought about it, assuming the notebook really was what it claimed to be, then rule #4 explained what had happened yesterday. She hadn’t written down a cause of death, so the notebook used its default method: a heart attack. It made a lot of sense, but it was also further proof that Sayu really had committed murder yesterday.

She hadn’t been able to stomach breakfast that morning, and she barely ate her lunch a couple hours ago. She could feel the concerned looks her friends were directing at her. Mika in particular had been upset about Sayu never showing up at her house after school like they’d planned. She went on about how she’d missed some excellent yakitori. She became even more concerned when Sayu left her lunch largely untouched.

Sayu wasn’t all that concerned, though. Not really. She wasn’t hungry. That’s all there was to it. Not many ordinary people _would_ be after killing a man, even if said man _had_ deserved what he got and then some.

Sayu was pulled out of her thoughts when the program they’d been watching on the teacher’s TV set (some strange American cartoon, which they’d been watching with the intent of trying, at least allegedly, to get them to learn to understand spoken English automatically), suddenly switched over to the news. The teacher seemed perturbed by this turn of events as well.

The news program showed some broadcaster discussing a pair of criminals. On the left side of the screen was a pair of images of the two with their names written underneath in kanji. Apparently, one of them, some scumbag by the name of Otoharada Kuro, had, just yesterday, held up an elementary school, held everyone inside hostage, and had murdered a police officer and critically injured two others before successfully making his escape. Exactly what he’d hoped to accomplish by doing that was beyond Sayu. The other man was some lowlife junkie by the name of Osoreda Kiichiro. The two were attempting to rob a bank. Otoharada was holding the civilians inside the bank hostage while Osoreda worked on cracking the safe.

After that information was given, the screen cut to an aerial shot of the outside of the bank. There was a barricade surrounding the building, along with over a dozen police cars, with more arriving, and dozens of officers. The time stamp on the television was 3:16 PM.

Behind one part of the barricade, it looked like several suited officers were having a heated argument. Sayu squinted, trying to get a better look at them, and realized that she recognized all of them. Among their number were several Tokyo detectives and… Sayu gulped heavily. One of the men there was her dad.

Her heart beat like mad with worry over dad’s safety. And then, her heart about sank to her toes while the blood drained from her face. The figure that she knew to be dad stepped out in front of the barricade, clearly unarmed, arms raised above his head. He walked slowly toward the building. As soon as he reached the front door, a female hostage in a yellow dress came running out of the building and into the arms of one of the officers behind the barricade. And then, dad walked into the building and vanished from the screen.

Her mind whirled in circles, her breathing grew ragged, and her hands shook involuntarily.

What the hell was dad thinking?!

~o~

Inside the bank, Soichiro looked Otoharada in the eye. The man had kept his word and released one of the hostages in exchange for Soichiro himself. He leveled his AK-74 at Soichiro’s chest with one hand and, with the other, threw a pair of handcuffs at him.

“Put ‘em on,” said Otoharada.

Soichiro calmly snapped the handcuffs around his own wrists. He hated doing this. He hated every second of it. But this was the only option.

“Listen, I –”

“No, you listen here. Yer gonna get on your knees, and yer gonna shut the hell up.”

“Please. If I could just –”

Otoharada shifted the rifle in his hands and slammed the buttstock of the gun into Soichiro’s face, sending his glasses flying off into the corner.

“Shut. Up.” Otoharada said sharply through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you were thinkin’, but if yer thinkin’ yer gonna try and be a hero or negotiate with me, don’t bother. I ain’t interested in anythin’ ya have to say.”

Soichiro considered his options, and got down on his knees quietly. Otoharada nodded, a dead serious look on his face.

Soichiro cleared his throat. He knew it might end in disaster, but he had come here with one purpose in mind.

“Otoharada.”

Otoharada turned around, rage coloring his features. “What the fuck did I just fuckin’ say?!” he yelled.

“I know, but listen. I have one thing I want to say, and then I’ll be quiet.”

Otoharada’s face twisted in fury for a moment, but then he looked to the side and lowered his gun. “Fine. But make it quick. And once yer done, you better keep yer fuckin’ word.”

Soichiro nodded. “My name is Yagami Soichiro,” he started. “I’m the Chief Superintendent of the National Police Agency.” At this, Otoharada actually paled. “I have an offer to make to you, Otoharada.”

Otoharada looked at him with apprehension. He seemed to be seriously considering listening to Soichiro's offer. After a moment of silence, he finally said, “What?”

“The offer is this: If you and your partner agree to release the hostages and give yourselves up peacefully, the NPA will look at your cases with more leniency. We’ll be able to offer a much better deal than you would get otherwise.”

Otoharada went totally silent for several minutes. Soichiro hoped that he was seriously considering the offer. After everything he’d done, it was the best he could possibly hope for.

~o~

Back in the classroom, Sayu was panicking badly. It had been several minutes since dad went in, and nothing had apparently happened yet. There was a dread-filled stillness, both on screen and in the classroom as everyone tried to guess what would happen next and what the police’s plan was.

Sayu couldn’t be certain, and that was terrifying. She did _not_ want to end up with only one parent. She desperately wanted dad to get out of this alive, to come home tonight after all was said and done. But, what on Earth could she, a fourteen-year-old middle school girl sitting in a classroom more than an hour’s drive away from where dad was, do about this? What could she…

Sayu’s eyes drifted to the pile of books on her desk. In the middle of the pile, concealed inside another notebook, was the Death Note. If it was possible, her face grew even paler when she realized what her options were. She could behave like a good girl and do nothing, meanwhile dad's life was at the mercy of some scumbag who nobody cared about. Or…

Well, really, there was only one option. It wasn’t very palatable, but it was better than the potential alternative. And besides, she needed to test the notebook again, anyways. She needed to know for certain whether or not it really was what it claimed to be. One could be chalked up to coincidence, but two or three…

Her mind made up, she quietly, ever so subtly, shifted the stack of books closer to her, carefully pulling the notebook-inside-a-notebook out of the stack, trying her best not to draw anyone’s attention away from the TV. Once it was out, she quietly opened the notebook to the first page, which contained the name of Shibuimaru Takuo. Ever so carefully, she removed the cap from her pen, and slowly, making sure not to draw attention, she once again began writing in the notebook of death.

~o~

Several more minutes had passed inside the bank. By now, Osoreda was probably wrapping things up inside the vault and preparing for the pair’s grand escape. There wasn’t much time left, but Otoharada still hadn’t answered.

Then, all of a sudden, a change seemed to sweep over the man. An eerie calm washed over Otoharada, and he lowered the barrel of his gun to the floor. His face no longer bore a frustrated, angry, or indecisive expression. Rather, his mood seemed to have shifted to resigned acceptance.

"I…” Otoharada said. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never wanted to hurt those cops yesterday. I never wanted to rob banks and take hostages for a living. This isn’t me.”

Hope blossomed in Soichiro's heart at those words. “So,” he began carefully, “Does that mean you accept my offer?”

Otoharada looked Soichiro in the eyes. In those eyes, there was no malice. There was no frustration. There was no anger, or sadness. Instead, there was peace. He closed his eyes and pointed his head down at the floor, grinning, not smugly, but with what seemed like genuine happiness.

“Mom used to tell me to stay away from those punk kids on the block. But, I never listened to her, did I? I ran with them. I got high with them. They were my friends, or at least, I thought they were. I just wanted them to accept me as one of them.” He was silent for a moment. “By the time I realized they were just using me, I was already hooked on the really bad shit, and I was in way too deep to turn back. I… I should’ve listened to mom. I bet she rolls over in her grave every time I do something stupid. I should’ve listened to her.”

Soichiro took in Otoharada’s speech silently, wondering where he was going with this.

“I should’ve listened to her,” he repeated. “I should’ve done a lot of things differently than I did. But…” He looked up and out the glass doors, at the large number of cops outside. He nodded. “It’s too late for should have.”

“So…” Soichiro started. He hoped Otoharada would make up his mind quickly. His knees were seriously starting to ache from all this kneeling, and the longer he took, the more likely the other suspect would appear and bring the plan crashing to Earth.

Otoharada looked back at Soichiro . For a long moment, he just stared. Then, seeming to make a decision, he said, “It’s too late to change the past. I’m definitely going to hell after everything I’ve done. But, really, at this point, hell is probably preferable to this bullshit.”

Soichiro crinkled his brow, confused, before realizing what Otoharada meant by that. His eyes widened and he paled.

Otoharada lifted his gun again. He looked up at the ceiling and raised the barrel to his own chin. Soichiro barely had time to stand before Otoharada pulled the trigger and fell backwards, dead and bleeding out over the floor. A minute later, another gunshot could be heard down in the vault. The devastatingly loud bang, combined with the relatively confined space inside the building, sent Soichiro reeling in shock, disorienting him and causing his ears to ring terribly.

As soon as the shots were heard, police came charging past the barricade and pouring into the building. They had thought they’d find  Soichiro or one of the other hostages dead on the floor. They weren’t, however, expecting to find one of the suspects dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Several cops worked on calming down and evacuating the hostages, while several more went into the vault to check on Osoreda.

Aizawa, Mogi, Ide, and Ukita came up behind Soichiro while a uniformed officer fished the keys to Soichiro's handcuffs out of Otoharada’s jacket pocket and used it to remove the handcuffs. The four men looked between Otoharada’s body and Soichiro , faces marred by shock and bewilderment. Soichiro could barely feel his own face. His whole body had gone numb.

“I…” he choked out, still staring at Otoharada. “I t-tried to s-stop him, but…”

Aizawa looked at Soichiro, gripping his shoulder, and said, “You did the best you could, Chief.” He looked toward the vault when the officers came out with a terrified young woman in tow and two more worked together to drag the body of Osoreda out of the vault. Everyone present swallowed heavily when they saw that Osoreda was gripping a .44 magnum revolver in his right hand and bore a gunshot wound to his right temple which was clearly self-inflicted. “You did the best you could.”

~o~

The students in the classroom were mostly cheering for the police. Sayu, however, found that she couldn’t. As it was, she was barely containing the violent quaking of her own body. She looked back down at the open page on her desk. The text read:

“Otoharada Kuro – Suicide

Realizes the error of his ways and shoots himself in the head with his own gun.

Osoreda Kiichiro – Suicide

Realizes the error of his ways and shoots himself in the head with his own gun.”

Based on what she was seeing on screen and the subsequent report of the newscaster, both men had suddenly decided to shoot themselves in the head with their own guns.

Sayu’s mouth was desert dry and her tongue suddenly felt far too big for her mouth. This proved it, beyond any shadow of a doubt. The notebook was for real. The notebook was for real, and now, Sayu had murdered three people in the span of two days.

There was no denying what the notebook was, now. There was no writing it off as some sick joke. And, most of all, there was no turning back.


	3. Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: “Over the bridge! Fly!” shouted Brownbeard.
> 
> The Fellowship of the Death Note Copyright fled desperately across the thin bridge as the giant flaming copyright lawyer chased them. Once the rest were safely across, Brownbeard turned and stared the beast down. “YOU’LL NEVER PASS!” he shouted.
> 
> “Brownbeard!” shouted Frodo.
> 
> “I am a servant of the secret typewriter. Wielder of the flame of Ohba. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Obata!” The beast and Brownbeard clashed. The beast was driven back momentarily. The beast roared furiously. “Go back to the shadow!” The best summoned a giant flaming whip. Brownbeard put his sword and staff together, raised them above his head and shouted, “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” and struck the ground hard with the staff.
> 
> The beast ran forward to engage, but the thin bridge began to collapse and the beast fell into the pit. Brownbeard turned to rejoin the Fellowship, but the flaming whip came up and wrapped around his leg, pulling him down and leaving him hanging on to the ledge for dear life.
> 
> Frodo tried to run towards Brownbeard in desperation, but Boromir stopped him. “BROWNBEARD!”
> 
> After struggling for a minute, Brownbeard realized he could struggle no longer. He looked up at the rest of the Fellowship and locked eyes with Frodo. “Fly, you fools,” he said before losing his grip and falling into the pit below.
> 
> “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Frodo screamed in agony.

Later that evening, Yagami Light was set up at the dining room table, putting the finishing touches on his Calculus homework. All the while, he could tell that he was a bit distracted. After all, it wasn’t common for him to mess up some of the simpler equations so carelessly. He’d had to go back and re-check his work five times already. No, that wasn’t normal for him at all.

What had Light in such a right state, you ask? While that wasn’t exactly a simple question to answer, the first one that came to mind was his little sister, Sayu. She’d been acting very oddly since yesterday. Yesterday, perhaps, her odd behavior could be explained by exhaustion, as she’d done in as many words when she arrived home a fair bit later than expected. Although, she’d looked a bit hungry at the time too, though she said she’d eaten. Light wasn’t so sure about that. She’d looked really nervous and more than a little freaked out, and she got twitchy and dubious when she said she’d had dinner at her friend’s house.

Of course, what could be explained away yesterday wasn’t so easily explained today. She’d gone to bed extremely early last night and woken up extremely early this morning. That in itself was unusual. What was even more so was the fact that she’d gotten sick yesterday. She probably didn’t realize it, but Light had gone upstairs to fetch something and he’d happened to hear her retching up her guts in the bathroom. And then, this morning, she hadn’t touched her breakfast at all. That was just bizarre. She loved breakfast, and she loved mom’s cooking. In the 14 odd years she’d been alive, Light couldn’t recall a time when she’d not eaten breakfast in the morning. And Light had a very good memory, even if he did say so himself.

No, something was off about his sister. Of course, it was entirely possible that it was a temporary thing. Perhaps she was ill? If so, she probably shouldn’t have gone to school today, but it was a little late for that. Still, it was worth looking into.

The other thing that had Light’s insides tying themselves in knots was what happened with dad at work earlier that afternoon. He’d been involved in stopping a bank robbery. Light was incredibly proud of his dad for that. What he wasn’t so thrilled about was the way he’d gone about doing it. He’d put his own life on the line, gambled his own life on what was likely a half-baked plan at best. Mom was still upset about it, and dad still wasn’t home. They knew, thankfully, that he had made it out okay, but they were still both very worried.

Light was just finishing fixing the last of the mathematical mistakes that he’d caught when Sayu walked in the door. When Light looked up from his homework and took a good long look at the teen girl, he began to worry in earnest. She was pale and stiff. She looked even more disheveled than she had yesterday, and she still had bags under her eyes. Not only that, but the lunch bag mom had made for her appeared to be mostly untouched, meaning that she’d gone at least 24 hours without eating a substantial meal, possibly a fair bit more even than that, and that on top of the fact that she’d thrown up yesterday. Though it wasn’t terribly noticeable, it looked like she’d lost a couple of kilograms, and she wasn’t a very heavy thing to begin with. Her hair was mussed up. Light could tell even from this distance that her lips, pressed into a flat line as they were, were dry and cracked. Her face looked just the slightest bit gaunt, and the expression on her face… Well, it wasn’t much of an expression at all. She sort of looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes all wide and blank. She looked at nothing in particular. As she changed from her outdoor shoes into her house slippers, her hands seemed to be shaking, though it looked like she was putting in effort to keep the shaking under control.

Okay, yeah. This was way beyond just a little bit off. Something was very wrong with this picture. Every single aspect of it was a red flag. Any of these things alone warranted asking questions, at least. All of them put together, and to say that Light was seriously concerned about Sayu would be a massive understatement.

Light looked around. Mom was still folding clothes in the laundry room. It looked like he was going to have to deal with this himself.

“Welcome home, Sayu,” he said shakily, standing up from the table. Sayu didn’t seem to notice, though. She just continued staring at nothing in particular. “Sayu?” She was struggling with her left shoe, and still wasn’t acknowledging that Light had said anything. “Oi, Sayu!” He raised his voice a bit, hoping that would get her attention. It didn’t. He walked over to the entryway and gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Sayu, are you listening?”

Sayu blinked, once, twice, thrice. Then, she finally looked up at him. As soon as her eyes met his, she looked away, almost like she was afraid of something. Light bit his lower lip. “Oh, I’m sorry, Light. I didn’t see you.” Her voice was rather scratchy and parched-sounding.

“I’ve been calling to you since you walked in the door,” Light said, a mix a skepticism and concern creeping into his voice as he spoke. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, low enough that Light barely heard her.

He stood there, looking her over for a moment, taking in things about her appearance he hadn’t noticed before. Her clothes were ruffled. A couple of her nails were cracked. There appeared to be the vaguest hint of red streaks on her palms, like she’d broken the skin clenching her fists too hard. The look in her eyes, what little he could see of it anyways, was… Well, Light couldn’t exactly tell what kind of look it was. But, there was something there that hadn’t been there before. Something that shouldn’t have been there. Light couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew he didn’t like it one bit.

“Sayu,” he said, firmly but not unkind. She looked up at him again, but her eyes stopped short of meeting his. “Why don’t you sit down, okay?” She didn’t appear to be moving on her own anytime soon, so he gently led her to the dining room table, pulled out a chair for her, and went back to his own seat. Before he committed to sitting down, he thought of something. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, then placed it on Sayu’s side of the table. For a moment, she stared, still standing, at the water, then shakily sat down on the provided chair. She continued staring at the water for several more moments. Light sat down and looked at her from across the table. “Sayu,” he started, “tell me what’s going on.”

Sayu looked down at the table, seeming to find a particular pattern in the lacquer finish unusually interesting. After a minute of silence, she started trying to speak, but choked a bit and finally took a large gulp of the water in front of her. Then, she went back to staring at the lacquer finish.

“Sayu,” said Light, starting to get a little frustrated. “If you don’t say anything, I’m going to start throwing out guesses.”

“L-Light,” she finally stuttered. She looked to her right and rested her head on her hand. Her hand was covering her mouth, just a bit. “Nothing’s wrong, Light. Everything’s fine.”

Light's brow twitched. She was obviously lying. She wasn’t even lying very well.

“Please, Sayu. Don’t give me that. Tell me the truth.”

She continued staring off to her right. She wasn’t even denying her lie.

“Okay, fine then,” he said. “I see how it is.” He leaned forward and steepled his hands in front of his face. He took another long look at his sister, thoughts racing around in his head. “Are you…” He trailed off, feeling a pit open up in his stomach at the thought. “Are you pregnant?”

That got her attention. Her head whipped around to face him, a look in her eyes like he’d just grown a second head. “What?! No! Of course not! What kind of person do you take me for?! How could you even suggest such a thing?!” She sounded downright offended that he would think that of her.

He chuckled lightly. This was more like the Sayu that he knew. Just a bit. “Sorry, but I had to ask, since you weren’t saying anything.”

“I already told you, Light. Everything’s fine. I’m okay.”

Light pressed his lips into a thin line. “No,” he said. “No. You are _not_ okay. Please, just talk to me.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted. They wouldn’t be getting anywhere like this.

“Okay, then…” he started again. “Are you having your…” He became distinctly uncomfortable. This wasn’t a topic he’d ever discussed with his sister before. Or with anyone else, as a matter of fact. “Um, you know. Is it that time of the month?”

She looked at him for a long moment, eyes wide with surprise. Then something seemed to click, though it was nearly unnoticeable. “Y-yeah,” she said, her face turning a bright red with embarrassment. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m having my… Yeah. You’re right about that. You really, uh, hit the nail on the head there.”

Light raised an eyebrow. He knew that women tended to act a bit… differently when they had their period, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to take Sayu’s behavior. There was just something…

“Um, Light, I’m gonna go change, okay,” she said, standing up from the table. Light lost his train of thought as he watched Sayu dash toward the stairs and out of sight. She was walking more fluidly than before. Perhaps she felt better getting it off her chest? But, then, there was still something odd. While he could accept, on a basic level, that it being that time of the month explained Sayu’s odd behavior, something in the back of his mind nagged at him, telling him that wasn’t quite right.

Light stood up and organized the papers on the table, closing his eyes and smiling cautiously. “Honestly,” he said under his breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand women.” He stared across the table, at the spot where Sayu had been sitting just a moment ago.

She’d forgotten her water.

~o~

When Sayu got inside her bedroom, she locked the door behind her and let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. That had been way too close for comfort.

She dropped her bag on the floor haphazardly and her school uniform wasn’t far behind. She dropped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, not even bothering to put on casual clothes. She just… couldn’t be bothered right now. There were more important things to deal with at that moment.

Light had come within millimeters of finding out what Sayu had done. He’d known, the instant he laid eyes on her, that something was wrong. She loved Light with all her heart. Really, she did, but… If he ever found out… She was terrified of the very idea of Light finding out. What if he did? What if he learned about the murders Sayu had committed? Would he continue seeing her as his little sister? Or would he see her as a monster? Would he accept her in spite of what she’d done? Would he report her to the police? And what would other people think about it? Mom and dad? Her friends at school?

She stood up and grabbed her bag off the floor, tossing it on the bed. After rifling through it for a minute, she pulled out that thrice-damned notebook. She walked over to the desk next to the bed and plopped down on the chair, placing the notebook in front of her, and opened it to page one. There, on the very first page, was irrefutable evidence that Yagami Sayu was a cold-blooded murderer. She rubbed her face with her hands. What was she going to do? There was no going back, now. There was no changing what she’d done.

She could throw it away. Just go and toss the notebook in a dumpster somewhere. But, there was a huge problem with that. If she did that, there was no telling who could end up finding it. What if a truly despicable person got their hands on this notebook? There was no telling how much havoc they could wreak, how many innocent people could die. If she did that, then she would be responsible for the deaths of countless innocent people. She didn’t think she could live with herself if that happened.

She could always try to destroy it. Just go out somewhere and set the damn thing on fire. Of course, even if that worked, it might draw unwanted attention to her. And there was absolutely no guarantee that it even would work. Surely, an artifact this powerful wouldn’t be that easy to just erase from existence. This thing was beyond the comprehension of mere mortals. It completely defied conventional logic. For all she knew, there were all kinds of safeguards in place to prevent the destruction of this notebook. The rules on the front covers only covered the bare bones basics of how to use it. They said nothing about what, exactly, the notebook was, who used it, or any rules regarding getting rid of it.

Altogether, this situation really sucked. Until whatever… entity had created this abomination of nature decided to show up on her doorstep and retrieve it, she just had to suck it up and live with it. With what she’d done. And really, what kind of entity would create and use something like this anyways? Perhaps… a Shinigami? Though, saying that, she’d never heard of any Shinigami in myth using a notebook. There were plenty of myths around the world about such beings, such as the Grim Reaper in the west which uses a modified farming implement to take people’s souls. A notebook, though? A plain notebook with what looked like ordinary college-ruled paper that you could get at the store? That was a new one.

Her thoughts turned toward the names she’d already written in the notebook. Shibuimaru Takuo, Otoharada Kuro, and Osoreda Kiichiro. The first had died of a heart attack, while the second and third had died of self-inflicted lead poisoning. All three of them had one thing in common. All of them were violent, despicable scum. All of them were terrible criminals who went around maliciously hurting innocent people for their own selfish desires. ‘Really,’ she thought, ‘as unpalatable as it is, the world really is much better off because of what I did, isn’t it?’

The thought turned her stomach, but at the same time… she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit justified in her actions. ‘After all, I come from a police family. I probably know better than the average person just how bad things are because of these people.’

She bit her lip. Her stomach hurt, but whether or not it was from hunger or guilt over her crimes, she didn’t know. ‘But, really though,’ she thought, ‘is what I did a crime?’ She thought about the man she’d killed yesterday, and what he’d been about to do. ‘That woman… That’s right. I saved that woman from a terrible fate when I killed Shibuimaru.’

And then she thought about the bank heist earlier. ‘And, I saved all those innocent people when I killed Otoharada and Osoreda. I saved all those people. I saved those police officers…. I saved dad.’ That’s right. She didn’t even know how many people she’d saved today just by writing down those two names. Maybe dozens, or even over a hundred.  
And if she could save that many innocent people just by writing down three names, how many hundreds or thousands more could she save by writing more criminals’ names in the notebook? She closed the notebook and stared at its cover for a while, realization slowly but surely dawning on her. Just thinking about it was starting to make her feel a little bit better. ‘Yagami Sayu, silent hero in the night and unseen protector of the innocent. Yagami Sayu, hammer of justice and destroyer of evil.’ For the first time in two days, she smiled a genuine smile. ‘This, I could work with. The notebook’s power… It doesn’t have to be evil. If I use its power for good then…’

‘I could be… a real hero.’

~o~

**Shinigami World**

**5:00 PM, 3 December, 2003**

The Shinigami, Ryuk, opened his eyes and stretched his overly long limbs. It had been five days since he dropped Sidoh’s Death Note in the human world, and since then, some pretty interesting stuff had started happening.

He walked over to a group of Shinigami playing Oicho-Kabu, and looked on them with supreme disinterest. What a boring place this was. How could the other Shinigami stand it? Ryuk didn’t think he’d ever understand it.

“Hm?” said one of the gambling Shinigami. “Oh, Ryuk. You want to join?”

Ryuk looked at him with a withering glare. “No. Actually, I’m looking for something.”

“Oh?” asked one of the other Shinigami.  
“You lost something?”

“Yeah. I dropped a Death Note somewhere.”

The group of gambling Shinigami burst out laughing at his apparent misfortune. “Oh man, Ryuk! That’s hilarious! Bahahahahaha!”

“You really screwed things up, didn’t you?”

“Do you know where you dropped it?”

“Yeah,” said Ryuk. “The human world.”

At that, the Shinigami stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him like he’d just said he threw a billion dollar check into the sewer.

“Seriously?”

“Yup. Looks like I’ll be gone for a while.”

The group stared at him for a moment longer before casually resuming their game.

“Well, have fun I guess.”

With that, Ryuk stretched out his wings and took flight, aiming for the portal between the Shinigami World and the human world. As soon as he vanished to the other side, the gambling group of Shinigami burst out laughing again.

“Man! What an idiot!”

~o~

“I’m home!” Sayu shouted excitedly.

“Welcome back, Sayu” said mom. Light was nowhere to be found.

Sayu dashed up the stairs two at a time and made a beeline straight for her bedroom. Once inside, she took a deep breath, quietly locked the door, and threw her bag and school uniform on the floor, quickly throwing on a pair of black capris, a yellow tank top, and a thin black felt jacket. She took her hair out of its tie and shook her head from side to side, sending it flying to and fro, before grabbing a black scrunchie and tying it back into a simple ponytail. All that done, she dropped to her stomach and crawled under her bed. It took a bit of effort, but a minute later, her hand gripped an opaque, black plastic box, and she pulled it out from under the bed. She placed the box gently on top of her bed, turning the knob of the combination lock sealing the box this way and that until the box clicked open. Opening the box, her eyes fell upon a thick brown book with the word “DIARY” stenciled on the cover in thick English letters. Then, her eyes fell on the lid of the box. She went to her desk and grabbed a nail filer, then with a push, she jammed the nail filer under a barely visible indention in the lid, and the false top popped off a couple centimeters. She reached with her other hand between the false top and the true top and gripped a thin book, which she pulled out.

She placed the thin black book on her desk and sat down in the chair. The odd white lettering on top of the book read “DEATH NOTE.” She opened the book. With a crooked smile and a slight manic look in her eyes, she took a good long look at her handiwork which she’d thus far accumulated. One page filled to the brim with names. She flipped the page over, and two more pages, filled to the brim with names. Another couple pages. Then another. And another. It was all she could do to keep herself from giggling maniacally, seeing all the names. She’d long since lost count of them. She must have written well over a hundred. Maybe even several hundred. And she was only getting started.

“Oho!” came a sudden loud voice behind Sayu.

“Gah!” she yelped, twisting around a little too fast in her chair and sending both herself and the chair tumbling to the floor. “Ow ow ow,” she said as she got up from the floor, rubbing her back where she’d fallen. She looked up to find the source of the sound. Her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and shock. Standing before her was an enormous creature with wide eyes, sharp hair, pale skin, black fur-looking stuff all over, chains, jewelry, a brown loin cloth, and a perpetual scary smile carved into his face. He had a bag on one hip which held a large black book. “Wh-what the?”

“Ah, sorry to startle ya, kid. I really should’ve introduced myself first.” The creature’s voice sounded like sandpaper being rubbed in her ears mixed with nails screeching on a chalkboard. “I’m the Shinigami, Ryuk,” he said, pointing at himself. Then, he pointed at Sayu. “And you, little girl, are the human who picked up my Death Note.”

And there it was, just as she’d thought. “Is that right?” she asked, inching away from Ryuk and toward her desk, which bore the notebook.

“Heh heh,” he chuckled. “To be honest, I’m a little shocked. Usually, when a Death Note falls into the human world and a human picks it up, that human rarely writes more than a handful of names at most. But you, on the other hand.” He pointed directly at the open notebook behind Sayu. “Just look at how many people you’ve killed in only five days. Even most Shinigami don’t write that much. You’ve really gone postal, brat.”  
Sayu gulped heavily. “Actually, Shinigami. I’ve been expecting you,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I knew something like this couldn’t be native to the human world. It goes way beyond anything humans can comprehend. So, what happens now, Ryuk?”

“Now? What do you mean?”

“Yeah. I used your Death Note and I killed more people than I could possibly keep track of. So, what happens now? Are you gonna take my soul or something?”

Ryuk looked at her as if she’d just asked if the sky was yellow. “What are you going on about? Is that some fantasy you humans came up with?” Sayu blinked. He pointed directly at her, his long, spindly finger coming just shy of her chest. “I’m not going to do anything. Since you picked up the Death Note, that means it’s yours to keep.”

She looked back at the notebook, which she had already used to kill countless people. “It’s… mine?”

“Yup,” Ryuk confirmed. “It’s all yours. All it’ll cost you…” he paused for effect, “is this: You will come to know the fear and pain known only to those who have used a Death Note. And, when it’s your time to go, it’ll fall on me to write your name in my Death Note.” He patted the book on his hip. “That and the fact that any human who uses the Death Note can neither go to Heaven nor Hell for eternity.” He paused again to let that sink in. (Although, it seemed Sayu wasn’t terribly concerned. Ryuk almost wanted to pout at the non-reaction. He’d spent nearly a week cooking up his speech.) “Of course, if you don’t want it, you could always give it back to me and I can go give it to someone else. Although, if you do, I’ll have to take your memories of the Death Note and all the murders you’ve committed with it.”

Sayu looked at Ryuk, and then at the floor. She considered the ramifications of that decision. She could be free of this thing and go back to being a normal teenage girl. But then, she remembered what she’d been thinking about a few days ago. She shook her head. “If you’re going to just hand it off to someone else, then absolutely not.” Ryuk raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “Even if I forget, I’ll still be peripherally responsible for whatever the next owner does with it. What if it ends up in the hands of some psycho who wants to kill everyone? No. I can’t trust this power with anyone else.” She looked at the notebook pensively, then back at Ryuk. “I have to ask. Why did you give the notebook to me of all people?”

“What?” Ryuk asked. “You think I chose you? Don’t be so conceited, brat. I didn’t choose you. I dropped the notebook in the human world, and you’re the idiot that happened to pick it up. That’s all there is to it. Don’t think that just because you have the notebook means you’re anything special. You picking up the notebook was just an accident.”

Sayu crinkled her brow. Something about what Ryuk had just said didn’t quite add up. “That’s… incredibly irresponsible. And, anyways, if it was just an accident as you say, why did you write instructions on the cover? Don’t tell me that was ‘just an accident,’ too, Ryuk. You meant to drop the notebook in the human world. That was no accident. So, why’d you do it?”

“Eh? You want to know why I did it?” Suddenly, if it was even possible, his perpetual grin became even more sinister. “I did it because I was bored.”

Sayu’s eyes widened at that. Something about it just… resonated with her on some level.

“As for why I wrote the instructions, I figured it would get things rolling faster. And since I didn’t know where it would end up, I wrote them in English, the most popular language in the human world.” He looked at the notebook again. “What I don’t understand is why you only bothered to write a cause of death for those two guys in the bank.”

“Oh, that?” Sayu asked, a hint to haughtiness creeping into her voice. “Well, you see, Ryuk,” she grinned at him, “I’ve been bored, too.”

“Oh?”

She walked over to her bedroom window, peering out over the neighborhood and the sun which was beginning to sink below the horizon. “A few days ago, before I got the Death Note, one of my teachers really laid into me. She told me I couldn’t keep drifting through life in a daze forever. She said I needed to buckle down and start thinking seriously about what I wanted to do. I didn’t realize it when I first got the Death Note, but I think the whole thing was something of a wake-up call for me.”

She thought back to those first two days, how she’d felt in that time. “When I first started using the Death Note, I felt like a complete monster. Some sort of cold-blooded murderer that could barely even be recognized as human. But then, when I started seriously thinking about what I’d done, it occurred to me. When I killed those men, in doing so, I ended up saving dozens of innocent people. I saved the day. Me.” She looked up at the ceiling. “It was after that that I decided what it was I wanted to do.”

“That’s all well and good,” said Ryuk, “but that still doesn’t explain why you’ve mostly only used the notebook’s default method. Won’t that just get you noticed? Most humans who use the Death Note typically want to avoid that.”

She continued staring at the ceiling, noticing a fly crawling around on the paint. “I used the heart attack method because I want to get noticed. I want people to know that there’s someone out there, protecting the innocent from evil and meting out punishment on the wicked.”

“But what’s the point of that? What are you trying to accomplish?”

She looked back out the window. “Ryuk. Look around this world. Anywhere at all, it doesn’t matter. What do you see? A rotten world filled with wicked people who want to hurt and take advantage of the innocent, hard-working everyday people. I want those people to go away, and I’m making them disappear, one name at a time. And, eventually, even if I personally am never recognized for it, those people who I’m protecting will know someone’s out there, looking out for them, and the wicked will cower in fear at the righteous judgement that they deserve.” She raised her right hand, palm up, until it was level with her chest. “Yes. To the innocent, I will be a silent hero in the night, protecting them from a distance and allowing them peace of mind while they sleep.” Then, she raised her left hand in the same fashion as her right. “And to the wicked, those who would maliciously harm the innocent for their own personal gain, I will be a hammer of righteous justice, meting out their due punishment.” She closed her hands into fists. “That is what I will be, Ryuk. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“But if you do that, then what about you? Won’t you be the only bad person left?”

“Me?” she asked, looking back at him. “You say the funniest things, Ryuk.” She brought her fists close until they were right up against her chest, elbows pointing downwards, and turned to face him fully. Then, she cocked her hips to the left, and put on an innocent pouty face. With that stance, she looked shockingly feminine. “I’m just cute, innocent Yagami Sayu, an adorable little girl who’d never hurt a fly. A girl who giggles with her friends about boys; whose biggest concerns are her hair, skin, and nails, and whether or not that cute boy two rows down likes her; who plays video games, watches dumb romance anime, and reads celebrity gossip magazines like they’re holy texts. And I will be,” her face contorted into a truly maniacal grin, “the great Symbol of Justice for a whole new era of peace and order.”

Lightning flashed outside after she finished speaking, and Ryuk somehow managed to make himself look even more sinister than ever.

‘It’s just as I thought,’ thought Ryuk as Sayu turned back to look out the window again. ‘Human are truly… interesting.’

~o~

L was crouched on a couch, reading through a laundry list of medical records and autopsy reports. He’d barely even managed to scratch the surface, and more were coming in every day thanks to Watari and his indulging L’s silly requests. Ever since Shibuimaru five days ago, the number of people randomly dropping dead of sudden, inexplicable heart attacks had increased dramatically. L must have already read through over four dozen records by now, and there were still stacks and stacks of them littered about the room left for him to sift through.

He was glad he’d chosen to indulge Watari when he’d brought him that cassette tape. Even now, another cassette tape was in the VCR, and the TV was displaying another surveillance tape, depicting a criminal suddenly dropping from a heart attack in the midst of committing a violent crime. He was glad indeed. This was so much more intriguing than that ridiculous Hong Kong fiasco.

The thing that was perhaps even more intriguing to L, the thing that really caught his interest, was what all the heart attack victims had in common. Every single one of them, without exception, was a felon wanted for murder, assault, rape or some other violent crime; otherwise, they were criminals who had been currently involved in one of the aforementioned violent crimes at the time of death; or they were criminals who were clearly guilty of the crime of which they’d been accused, but had been acquitted for some phony reason or other. (And, really, those facts alone spoke volumes about the individual responsible; in particular, the fact that none of the criminals targeted were convicted and imprisoned, at least, none that L knew of yet.)

When it was just Shibuimaru, that was one thing. One, or even a few dozen, could be chalked up to coincidence. After all, heart attacks account for roughly 11.8% of total annual deaths worldwide. If they’d had nothing in common, and if their medical records and autopsy reports didn’t indicate that they were mostly in good health, then there would be nothing to look into. It would be business as usual. But this was something else entirely.

A few dozen of these could be chalked up to coincidence. But, hundreds of them, all only affecting criminals who, based on their medical records and autopsy reports, couldn’t realistically have been expected to suffer heart attacks, and largely concentrated in one country (Japan, of all places)? No. This was starting to look less like a series of unfortunate coincidences, and more like the signature pattern of a serial killer.

Of course, convincing people that this was, indeed, the work of a serial killer would take some doing. After all, whether the perpetrator was an individual or a group, connecting a series of heart attacks to any human agency would be difficult even under the best of circumstances. However, given the scale of what was happening, not even the ICPO would be able to ignore it for much longer. In fact, Watari had already informed him that they were holding a meeting tomorrow and had gone to board a flight to Lyon. This should be interesting, whether or not they agreed to hire out his services in this.

Either way, in the meantime, L already had leads to work with. The pattern of victims spoke volumes about the personality of the perpetrator. And, thanks to Watari keeping his finger on the pulse of local criminal activity wherever the pair went, L already had a very good idea of where the perpetrator could be found.

Now, he just needed to watch, and wait, and plan his move accordingly. It was only a matter of time.

-0-

**Omake: Hungry for Apples?**

“Oh,” said Sayu, “by the way, Ryuk. What’s the deal with the notebook seeming to almost… call to me –?”

Sayu was interrupted by a sudden knock at her door. As she looked around her room at the towering Shinigami standing hunched over in the corner and the open Death Note with dozens of visible names written in Sayu’s handwriting on her desk, her heart beat furiously.

“Sayu?” came the voice of Yagami Sachiko. “Why is the door locked, sweetie? You’re not up to anything naughty in there, are you?”

She grabbed the notebook, flung it onto the bed, and set her bag on top of it. Then she looked at Ryuk. She wasn’t sure how he’d gotten into her room, but she figured getting him to leave wouldn’t be as simple as just shooing him away like some annoying animal.

He seemed to read her mind. “Oh, don’t worry about little old me,” he said. “Only those who’ve touched the Death Note can see or hear the Shinigami it’s attached to.”

Oh. Well, that’s one problem solved…. Could’ve said that earlier, though. What a pain.

“Uh, n-no, mom! I forgot to unlock it after I changed clothes, is all!” She quickly unlocked the door and opened it, just enough to peer through with one eye. She smiled through the door awkwardly.

Mom tilted her head to the side in confusion. “What are you doing, Sayu?” she asked, pushing the door open a bit more with one hand. “And why is it so dark in there? You know, if you’re in there reading in the dark, you’re going to end up needing glasses just like your father.”

“Oh, uh, I was taking a nap. School’s been getting pretty tiring lately, especially since I started going to cram school.” Her smile faltered ever so slightly.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re finally starting to take your studies seriously, Sayu.”

Sayu looked off to the side awkwardly. “So, uh… What did you need, mom?”

Mom blinked for a second, then smiled. “Oh, right. I brought you a basket of apples.” She held up a basket containing five apples. “I figured since you’ll be off to cram school before I finish cooking dinner, you’d want something to tide you over.”

“Th-thanks, mom,” Sayu said, opening the door a bit wider and accepting the basket of apples. With that, mom ambled back to the kitchen, none the wiser about just what was hiding inside Sayu’s room. Once the door was closed and locked again, Sayu set the basket of apples on the desk and went to the bed. She took the notebook back out from under her bag and tore out two pages, folding them neatly in half four times each and stuffing them inside her bra.

“What’s up, Sayu?” came the voice of Ryuk from the corner. “You planning to kill someone?”

“No,” she said, working the notebook back into the false top and shutting the box, “but you never know if I might end up needing a piece of the Death Note. So, y’know, just in case.” She put the box quietly onto the floor and shoved it way under her bed, close to the wall.

She stood back up and started walking toward the desk and the basket of apples sitting atop it when she noticed something strange about the basket. Namely, that there were no apples in it. Then she looked at Ryuk, who was busy stuffing an apple core down his throat. She blinked, and then turned red with fury. “What the hell, Ryuk?!” she yelled. “Those were my apples!”

“Huh?” Ryuk mumbled intelligently. “Oh, sorry, Sayu. I couldn’t help myself. Apples in the human world are… Oh, what’s the word? Juicy?”

“I don’t care about that!” Sayu yelled indignantly. “Those were mine, you asshole! I didn’t say you could have them!”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Whatever,” she said, picking up her bag. “I’m going to cram school.” She flung the door open and stormed off in a huff.

Ryuk scratched his chin as he watched her leave. “Huh,” he said. “Did I do something to make her mad at me?” After a minute, he shrugged and flew through the wall, following Sayu to cram school from the safety of the skies.


	4. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Oh, Archer. You always crack me up. *looks up from computer screen* What? Why are you looking at me expectantly like that? Do you think I owe you this chapter? I don’t owe you anything, kid, and neither does anyone else. Now, go away. I’m trying to watch Krieger do brain surgery on acid. *grabs popcorn* (Disclaimer: This is just a joke. Please don’t leave me.)
> 
> Oh, also, I don’t own Death Note. Now I’m depressed.

**International Criminal Police Organization (ICPO) HQ**  

**Lyon, France**  

**4 December, 2003**  

Inside the enormous conference room in ICPO headquarters, chaos seemed to be the order of the day. 

“So far, we’ve counted 52 dead this week.” 

“All of them by heart attacks.” 

“All of them were wanted for a violent crime, currently involved in the commission of a violent crime at the time of death, or acquitted for a violent crime in spite of evidence strongly pointing towards their guilt.” 

“According to reports, no criminals who’ve already been convicted and imprisoned have yet been targeted.” 

“Chances are, we’ve barely found half of them. There could be many more we haven’t been made aware of yet.” 

“Well, all these people should’ve died anyways!” 

“Who said that?!” 

“That’s right! Even if it’s criminals on death row we’re talking about, wanton murder is still a crime!” 

“But, how can you be sure it’s murder?” 

“What else could it be?! There’s no way this many people could just coincidentally drop dead from sudden heart attacks! It’s ludicrous!” 

“What’s ludicrous is the idea that a sudden heart attack has anything to do with murder. Last I checked, millions of people die of heart attacks every year. It’s perfectly natural.” 

“It’s impossible to organize a mass murder of this scale and frequency. Especially the victims whose actions and locations couldn’t have been predicted prior to death.” 

“We suspect that a large organization is responsible for these killings.” 

“In that case, it must be the FBI or the CIA. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time they’ve pulled such a ridiculous stunt.” 

“What the hell did you just say?!” 

“That’s enough of that.” 

“These deaths can bolster the police’s reputation.” 

“Reputation?! Is that all you care about?! Don’t you think we have bigger worries right now?!” 

“True. It is a problem if criminals are killed without due process of the law.” 

“Before we worry about that, we should determine if this even is a mass murder at all.” 

“But didn’t the coroner’s reports say the origins of the heart attacks can’t be determined?” 

“Like that other guy said, plenty of people die of heart attacks. It’s no consequence to us.” 

“It’d be easier to determine if there were signs of a crime having been committed, like stab wounds, gunshot wounds, burns, or traces of poison.” 

“Shall we vote on it, then?” 

“If we can’t come to a consensus on this matter, then it looks like we’ll have to call in L.” 

Suddenly, the entire room went deathly silent. Over at the table for the Japanese delegates sat NPA Chief Superintendent Yagami Soichiro and Detective Matsuda Tota. 

“Chief,” said Matsuda, leaning over toward Soichiro and making sure he wasn’t speaking into an active microphone while doing so. “Who’s this ‘L’ person?” 

“Ah, right,” said Soichiro, “This is your first time coming to one of these conferences. L is… a complete mystery. His real name and face aren’t known to anyone in Interpol. But, he can solve any case. He’s something of a private investigator. He shrouds himself in absolute secrecy, but he alone has solved some of the world’s most difficult cases. You could say he’s our trump card. Our ace in the hole. Our last resort.” 

“But, he’s kind of stubborn,” said another delegate. “L will only take on cases that he’s personally interested in.” 

“Stubbornness aside, how do we even contact him?” 

“Gentlemen, L is already on the move.” 

Once again, the room went deathly silent. A man in a dark heavy coat and a large, dark hat which completely shadowed his face strode up to the center of the large stage at the front of the conference hall. He carried nothing but a small briefcase, which he set down on a desk. He cleared his throat, and began speaking, an almost elderly quality to his voice. “There is no need to panic. L has already started working on the case.” 

“Watari!” came the scattered shouts of several delegates. 

“Huh?” asked Matsuda. “Watari? Another Japanese delegate?” 

“No,” said Soichiro, “but, Watari is the only known person who can contact L, so he acts as our liaison to L. Still, I don’t believe even Watari knows who L really is.” 

As mumbles continued to circulate throughout the conference hall, Watari opened the briefcase and took out a plain laptop. He connected an auxiliary cable to the laptop and another computer, connecting it to the large screen at the front of the room and the accompanying speakers. “Silence, please,” said Watari. “I give you the voice of L.” 

“ _Greetings, delegates of the ICPO,_ ” came a scrambled voice. “ _I… am L. This is the biggest and most difficult case yet. The difficulty is compounded by the fact that there are no clear signs of a crime having been committed._ ” The voice paused for effect. “ _However, make no mistake. What we are witnessing is an atrocious and unforgivable act of mass murder. In order to solve this case, I require the full cooperation of every member nation of the ICPO. In particular, I require special assistance from the Japanese NPA._ ” 

~o~ 

L was crouched on the floor of the hotel room, eating a piece of strawberry shortcake as he spoke to the delegates of the ICPO. It appeared that Interpol was already desperate. That made his job much easier. However, this was only the beginning. 

“In particular,” L said into the microphone, “I require special assistance from the Japanese NPA.” 

At that, the Japanese delegates, one Yagami Soichiro and one Matsuda Tota, stood up, confusion marring their faces. “ _Why us in particular?_ ” came the inquisitive voice of Chief Yagami. 

“Whether the perpetrator is an individual or a group, there is a strong probability that they are Japanese, or at least, are currently hiding in Japan. In order to prove it, I will require your full cooperation, and I will require you to follow all of my orders to the letter, no matter how ridiculous they might seem.” He took a bite of his cake. 

“ _Uh… okay, understood,_ ” said Yagami, returning to his seat and beckoning Matsuda to do the same. With that, the delegates in the room took a vote. 

Regardless of anyone’s personal feelings on the matter, L had a pretty good idea what the outcome would be. And even if they voted against, L would still work on the case. This was far too intriguing to do otherwise, and he was already personally invested anyways. 

As the vote continued, L looked to his right, at another open laptop. On screen, there was a man strapped to a chair, chains restricting his movements, a gag preventing him from speaking, and a blindfold preventing him from seeing. This man was Lind L. Tailor. L had originally planned to use him as a stand-in for himself, but based on the perpetrator’s pattern of killing… L had come to the conclusion that that would accomplish nothing; in fact, it would likely accomplish the opposite of the intended effect. Rather than provoking him into action, it might make him think less of the police and less of L, and he likely wouldn’t act on the provocation. 

So, instead… 

~o~ 

**After School, Eishu Junior High**  

**5 December,** **2003**  

Sayu was walking home from school with several of her friends. The whole time, she struggled to contain a nervous twitch in her lips. The things they were saying… It was all she could do not to reveal the truth to them right then and there. 

“This is pretty cool,” said her friend Tsuru, a petite girl with long brown hair pulled back in twin tails. 

“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty scary,” said Sakura, a slightly taller girl with chin-length hair of an odd light red color. 

“I think whoever’s doing this needs to just leave punishing criminals to the cops. That’s their _job_ , after all,” said Yuri, a girl with a relatively flat chest and broad hips with long black hair styled into a side tail. 

“Big bro thinks this stuff is wrong, but I think it’s great that all these bad people are getting what they deserve,” said Mika, an unusually busty girl with very light brown hair verging on blonde styled in a loose bun with a large strand flying freely on the right side, and a distinctive mole on the left side of her chin. 

“So, you support _Kira?!_ ” Yuri retorted. “I never knew you were _that_ kind of person.” 

Mika blew her a raspberry. Then she turned to Sayu. “You haven’t said anything, Sayu. What do you think?” 

“I bet she agrees with me,” said Yuri. “Her father's a cop after all. She knows what it’s about, right Sayu?” 

“I wasn’t asking _you_ , stupid Yuri!” said Mika. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you’re _wrong_ , Mika , you dumb bitch,” Yuri - retorted. Then, they both ganged up on Sayu. “So, what _do_ you think, Sayu?” 

“Yeah, tell us,” said Mika. 

“Uh, well,” Sayu said, rubbing the back of her neck, “I haven’t really thought about it. I’m not really into that sort of thing. It’s all way over my head.” She laughed awkwardly. 

Both girls pouted at her. “You really aren’t very smart, are you Sayu?” said Mika. “Not like your _sexy_ older brother, Light .” She practically fell over from swooning so hard. “ _Oh_ , I bet he’s hung like an _elephant!_ ” She was actually, literally starting to drool. Oh boy. 

“Fucking dumbass!” said Yuri, giving Mika a withering glare. “Are you _still_ thinking _you’re_ going to marry Light? Dream on. He’s not into dumb broads like you. _I’ll_ be the one marrying him.” 

“And he’s not into flat-chested _freaks_ like you,” said Mika . “Once he and _I_ get married, we’re going to have five children, and I’m going to name the first one Hikari in honor of my Light~.” 

“Yeah, well,” Yuri snorted indignantly, “unlike you, I’m at least not breaking my back trying to lug around a pair of watermelons. And besides, everyone knows that men really like women who have a thick, round butt they can grab onto. And you? You just haven’t got it.” 

“Men love women with huge boobs!” Mika yelled, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. “You’re just jealous because you’ll never have a man using _your_ chest as a pillow.” 

“I swear to _Christ_ , Mika , you are such an impossible _bitch!_ ’ Yuri yelled back. 

Okay, yeah. Never mind. This was going nowhere fast. “To be honest, I don’t think Light is into either of you,” Sayu interjected, getting tired of their daily bickering. ‘Actually,’ she thought, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Light show any genuine interest in girls before. Or anyone else for that matter. Does he even think about that stuff?’ 

“Who asked you?!” both girls yelled, before going right back to bickering amongst themselves. 

Sayu tuned out Mika and Yuri for the rest of the walk home. Once she got home, everyone said their goodbyes and she was finally free of that exhausting conversation. ‘Honestly,’ she thought, ‘I think _those_ two should marry each other. They’ve already got the old married couple shtick down to a tee.’ 

Back in her room, she changed into a white top, a purple cardigan and black skinny jeans, and took the Death Note out of its hiding place. As she sat at her desk and turned on her computer, Ryuk appeared behind her, munching on an apple. 

“So,” Ryuk said, “What was all that ‘Kira’ stuff they were talking about?” 

“What, you couldn’t figure it out, Ryuk?” Sayu said bitingly, rolling her eyes haughtily. 

“You know, brat. You really ought to be a little nicer to me. There’s nothing stopping me from writing your name in my Death Note.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sayu opened up a web browser and typed in the word ‘Kira.’ “Let me tell you something about humans, Ryuk.” She looked away from the monitor, which held dozens of search results, most of which were talking about the recent heart attacks. “Out in public, if you were to ask any random person if they thought criminals should be killed, they would most likely say, ‘Of course not. Murder is wrong.’ That would be the politically correct answer. But, for a great many people, that’s not the truth.” She clicked on a link, and there appeared on screen a black page with religious-looking designs talking about the ‘Great God, Kira’ and the ‘Great Judgement’ that ‘Lord Kira' has wrought. “However,” Sayu continued, “on the internet, where you can remain anonymous, people have begun voicing their true feelings on the matter. This,” she waved a hand at the website, “is how people really feel. To be honest, it’s a little scary. I never expected what I was doing to catch on _this_ quickly.” She rubbed her chin, looking at the word, ‘Kira.’ “I’m not nearly as good at English as Light , but I think they might have taken the word ‘Kira’ from the English word ‘Killer.’ It’s not nearly heroic enough to be the moniker _I_ would have chosen, but if that’s what they’re calling me, then that’s what they’re calling me.” 

“I see,” said Ryuk. He started doing a merry gigue in the middle of the room. “Oh man, this is so interesting!” 

Sayu turned towards the TV set opposite her bed and flipped it to the news. “Anyways, I don’t have a ton of time to work, so I’d better get to it. Justice sleeps for no one –” 

She was interrupted by the news broadcaster saying, “And now, we bring you a special worldwide broadcast from the ICPO.” 

The screen changed from the broadcaster to an image of a man restrained to a chair. Sayu could see his face clearly. It looked like he’d been put through a bit of a ringer. She wasn’t really sure how to respond to this. Then, her questions were answered, by a scrambled voice which, in the coming months, she would come to hear in her nightmares. “ _Greetings, people of the world. My name is irrelevant, but you can refer to me… as L._ ” 

“L?” Sayu asked confusedly. She thought she might have heard that moniker before, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

_“_ _I’m sure you’re all confused about what you’re seeing on screen. Rest assured, all will be made clear in a moment. As for right now, I wish to speak directly to the individual known to the world as ‘Kira._ _’”_  

“‘Kira?’” Sayu asked, pointing at herself. “Who the hell is this guy?” 

_“_ _Kira._ _I don’t know if you’re watching this, but if you are, I want to tell you that… I_ _wholeheartedly_ _agree with what you’re doing, and I wish to be of assistance to you in your endeavor_ _.”_  

Sayu was thrown completely off by that statement. “W-wait, what? He wants to… help me?” 

_“I_ _agree that this world is rotten, and that it needs a beacon of justice to punish the wicked. The world… needs_ you _, now more than ever before. Which is why I’ve brought this man before you_ _.”_ The camera zoomed in on the man tied to the chair, showing his face in clear detail. _“_ _This man is Lind L. Tailor. His name is spelled L-I-N-D-Space-L-Period-Space-T-A-I-L-O-R_ _.”_ Just in case that wasn’t clear enough, a masked person appeared on camera and hung a sign around the man’s neck which displayed the proper spelling of his name. _“_ _He is a disgusting piece of human garbage, and the prime suspect in multiple homicides. The evidence against him is as clear as day, but for one reason or another, he keeps managing to evade the justice that is due him_ _.”_ L paused for a moment to let that sink in. _“_ _Kira. If you would work with me and the ICPO in cleaning up the world of such filth, then_ _prove your might and_ _kill this man._ _Right here. Right now_ _.”_  

Sayu stared at the screen in shock. This… L person seriously wanted to _help_ _her_? The _ICPO_ wanted to help her?! This was… She didn’t even know _what_ this was. Still, if what he said was correct, then this was exactly the sort of person that needed to be purged. She probably would have killed him eventually anyways. Might as well get it over with, since she had the opportunity. She opened her Death Note to the first empty page and wrote “Lind L. Tailor” exactly the way it was spelled on screen. She looked back at the screen. ‘10 seconds,’ she thought. ’20 seconds. 30 seconds. 40 seconds.’ The man’s face suddenly contorted in shock and pain. He attempted to clutch at his chest as if that would stop the inevitable, but the bindings on his hands prevented it. Then, he slumped over, dead in his chair. She closed the notebook and stared at the screen, waiting for L’s reaction. On screen, several masked individuals began untying Lind L. Tailor and dragging him away. The way they were acting, it didn’t seem like they particularly cared about the man. Maybe L really _was_ telling the truth? 

Then, the situation turned over on its head, and at the same time, the screen turned to a mostly blank white screen, only broken by a stylized English letter ‘L.’ _“_ _Kira,_ _”_ came the scrambled voice of L. _“_ _I-I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’_ _t just seen it with my own eyes!_ _It seems you can ki_ _ll without having to be present!_ _”_ Sayu nodded awkwardly, trying to figure out L’s angle. _“_ _Listen, Kira. This man was a criminal sentenced to be killed at this time today. He was imprisoned in absolute secrecy, so it seems even you can’t target criminals you know nothing about. That’s a pretty useful hint_ _~_ _._ _”_ He said the last sentence in a singsong-y voice that got on Sayu’s nerves, but more importantly, Sayu was starting to get a very bad feeling about this. _“_ _The truth of the matter is that I, L, am in charge of the investigation against you_ _.”_ And there was the other shoe. The blood drained from Sayu’s face in short order. _“_ _You appear to be a rather childish individual, but I believe you truly are on the side of justice. Or_ _rather_ _,_ _I should say, you’ve deluded yourself into believing that you are on the side of justice. However, what you are doing, right now, is an unforgivable act of pure evil._ _”_  

“Y-you think _I’m_ evil?” Sayu said, quivering with fury. She stood up with enough force to knock her chair back, eyes wide with rage, a snarl on her face. “Like hell! I am _j_ _ustice_! I _protect_ the innocent, I _oppose_ evil and I _punish_ those who would do evil! You, on the other hand? You’re nothing more than a delusional fool, sitting up in the safety of your high horse while the innocent suffer for your retarded brand of ‘justice!’” 

_“_ _Kira! Justice_ always _prevails! What gives_ you _the right to_ _act as judge, jury, and executioner to criminals_ _who haven’t even been given due process under the law?! Do you think you’re some sort of great vigilante comic book hero? How_ foolish _. The police_ _and courts_ _are sufficient_ _. You aren’t needed. Do you_ really _think anyone wants you? You and your brand of justice are_ utterly _superfluous._ _”_  

“What the hell do you know?! Justice _doesn’t_ always prevail! So much blatantly guilty scum gets to walk free and terrorize the innocent at their leisure, and you have the _balls_ to call _that JUSTICE?!_ How naïve! The world _needs_ Kira! This world is rotten, and in desperate need of a symbol of true justice! Just look at what people are saying on the internet! _Everyone_ wants Kira!” 

L was silent for a moment as Sayu stood there fuming in place. Then, he spoke the words that drove ice into Sayu’s veins. _“_ _Oh, by the way, Kira. While it was announced that this was a worldwide broadcast, the truth is that this broadcast is only being aired in the_ _Kanto_ _region of Japan._ _”_ Once again, the blood drained from Sayu’s face. _“_ _We had planned to continue airing this broadcast in different regions until we found you, but it seems that that’s no longer necessary._ _As a matter of fact, not only are you local to the_ _Kanto_ _region of Japan, you’re local to the Shinjuku area._ _”_  

“Wh-what did he just say?” Sayu said, real fear creeping into her voice for the first time. 

_“_ _Surprised? I suppose that’s reasonable. However, the reason I say this is that your first murder victim was a man named Shibuimaru Takuo, a criminal local to Shinjuku whose crimes were only ever reported in Shinjuku._ _”_  

“Oh. Oh shit.” Sayu had to sit down to keep from collapsing to the floor once the room started spinning. Her entire body was quivering, her skin pale as paper. How on Earth could he know that? 

“Oof,” said Ryuk. “He got you there.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Ryuk!” Sayu shouted. “Now is _not_ the time!” 

_“_ _This means, of course, that you haven’t been killing for very long, and your first murder was little more than an experiment. I don’t know how you conduct your murders without being physically present, but not to worry. You can answer all my questions when I catch you._ _”_  

Sayu’s heartbeat grew frantic and her breathing grew ragged. This was… This was so much worse than she ever could’ve imagined. He’d played her like a careworn fiddle and, in one fell swoop, had narrowed his search down from the entire world to practically her neighborhood. 

_“_ _One more thing, Kira._ ” There was _more? Seriously?_ _“_ _I want to ask. How far are you willing to take your brand of justice? Are you of the mindset that anyone who opposes you is as evil as the criminals you’ve heartlessly murdered? If so, then try and kill_ me!” 

She couldn’t. Even if she’d wanted to (and at that point, she _really_ wanted to), without his name and face, there was nothing she could do. And he had likely issued that challenge knowing full well that she could do nothing. 

_“_ _What’s wrong, Kira? What are you waiting for? I’m right here. Do it!_ _”_  

At this point, he was just taunting her, and it was really pissing her off. Where the hell did this guy get off? What a jackass. 

_“_ _Well, well. Either you really are a true believer as I thought, or you can’t kill me even if you want to._ _Perhaps a bit of both. Regardless_ _, you’ve given me a very useful_ _hint~._ _In any case, we’ll speak again some other time. By then, I’ll hopefully have you in custody and you can answer all of my questions in detail._ _See ya_ _._ _”_  

The signal cut out, leaving Sayu feeling more frustrated and, well, like a scared little girl, than she’d ever felt before in her life. Sayu ground her teeth together. She _needed_ to get rid of this guy as quickly as possible. Not just because he was incredibly irritating, either. She really didn’t want to give this jerk the satisfaction of waving his victory in front of her face, and she really, _really_ didn’t want to be executed. 

She put her head in her hands and massaged her numb face, trying to get some blood rushing back. That broadcast had left her emotionally exhausted, but it wasn’t like she could just go to sleep, either. Thoughts raced through her head at a million kilometers an hour. What on Earth was she going to do? How could she even _approach_ dealing with someone like that? Sayu would be willing to bet that this guy was even smarter than Light , and if he was smarter than Light , there was absolutely no _question_ that he was smarter than _her_. That much had just been made painfully clear. 

“Oh boy!” Ryuk said behind her, apparently having gone back to doing a merry gigue. “This is so exciting! Whichever one of you has their name and face revealed first dies. I haven’t been this excited since the Shinigami King's big millennial celebration back in 999!” 

“Ryuk! Please! You’re not helping!” she shouted through her hands. She had to think of something. Anything. She flung the Death Note open and reread the rules one by one in as great of detail as possible, but no matter how much she considered the possibilities, this notebook was completely _useless_ if she didn’t know L’s name and face. She didn’t even know the names and faces of anyone who might be in contact with L. She knew absolutely nothing about him. 

What she really needed was a secret weapon, some sort of ace in the hole that could give her the upper hand against him, something good enough to match his wit. But what… 

She blinked and smacked herself in the face. Was she really that stupid? The answer was so obvious! 

“Ryuk,” she said. 

“Oh, what, can I talk now?” he asked sarcastically. 

She looked back at him with a withering glare, then exhaled heavily and shook her head. Getting angry would solve nothing. “I have a favor to ask of you.” 

“Yeah? What?” 

She looked at her desk, tracing an odd pattern in the lacquer finish with her eyes. “If I gave you a bunch of apples, I don’t suppose you could go and kill L for me?” 

Ryuk was silent for a long moment. Then, to Sayu’s dismay, he started rolling around on the ground, laughing his head off. “Oh man, Sayu. That’s a riot!” A vein became clearly visible on Sayu’s forehead. “In all seriousness, I thought you were wanting to be some kind of superhero. What kind of superhero needs others to fight their battles for them?” That was… actually a pretty good point. “I mean, it’s not like _I_ care what happens to some human, but that’s such a dull resolution that I’m actually offended you would even suggest such a thing. I came here for excitement. If you won’t give me that, then I’ll just take that Death Note and all your memories of it and be on my merry way. There aren’t enough apples in the world to make up for that.” 

The most frustrating part was that… Sayu really couldn’t argue with his logic, even if it _was_ incredibly infuriating and selfish. That still left her with the original problem of how to deal with L. What else was there? What other angle could she approach this problem from? 

Her eyes opened wide. _There_ was an idea. “Ryuk,” she said again. 

“I already told you, brat. I’m not doing it and that’s final.” 

“No, not that. I understand your reasoning, and I won’t ask again.” She continued studying the pattern on her desk. “I just wanted to ask. When you were explaining the Death Note and its user’s relationship to the Shinigami, was there maybe anything you left out or forgot to mention?” 

Sayu could practically feel Ryuk's stare in her back. “Actually, now that you mention it,” he started. She turned around to face him, and actually felt a little intimidated as he stood to his full height and absolutely towered over her. “There _was_ one thing I failed to mention, mostly because it was never really relevant before. But now, I have to say. If you’re desperate enough to ask me to directly intervene on your behalf, then maybe you’d be willing to consider it. But before I explain it, I have a question to ask.” 

“What’s that, Ryuk?” 

He leaned in closer, and she scooted backwards to get away from his looming leer. “Do you know what the difference is between a Shinigami and a Death Note-using human?” 

“Uh…” she said intelligently, not really sure where he was going with this. “Is it the ability to fly, phase through solid objects, and go unseen by most people?” 

“…” Ryuk stared at her unblinkingly (not that he appeared to have eyelids anyways). “Uh, actually, no. But, A+ for effort. Actually, I’m talking about these.” At that, he pointed at his eyes. “You see, there are two important distinctions between a Shinigami and a human user of a Death Note. The first,” he held up a long, pointy finger, “is that when a Shinigami writes a human’s name in his or her Death Note, the remainder of that human’s lifespan that will no longer be lived by that human gets transferred to the Shinigami who wrote that human’s name. Say a human was meant to live to be sixty, but a Shinigami wrote that that human would die at forty. Then the remaining twenty years would be added to the Shinigami’s lifespan. That is the primary reason that Shinigami bother to write human names in their Death Notes. However, no matter how many names _you_ write in the Death Note, _your_ lifespan will _not_ increase. That is the first major difference.” 

“I… see,” Sayu nodded, still not sure where he was going with this. Then, a thought occurred to her. “But, wait, how would you know how long a human was supposed to live for? In fact, how do you even know that human’s name?” 

“I was getting to that, but those are very good questions, brat.” He held up a second long, pointy finger. “The second major difference between us, and the one that’s far more relevant to you, is that very thing.” He once again pointed to his eyes. “The difference is that we have different eyes, you and I. With my eyes, I can see a person’s true name and lifespan just by looking at their face.” 

Sayu’s eyes widened at that announcement. She smirked crookedly as a thought occurred to her. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me _my_ lifespan if I gave you some apples?” 

“Nope.” 

“Hm,” she closed her eyes and chuckled. “You really are a pest, you know that?” 

“I’ve been called worse by better.” 

She looked up at him from half-closed eyelids. “That… doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.” 

“It wasn’t meant to.” 

She bit her lip. “And if I asked you to go find L and tell me his real name?” 

“Even if I did, which I won’t, it wouldn’t help you without knowing what he looks like.” 

“True, but unless he’s ridiculously meticulous about photos of him, knowing his real name _could_ lead to finding a photo of him on the internet.” 

“I’m still not going to do it either way. But, anyways, that’s not what I was talking about. You see, this is the really interesting part. While the first gap I mentioned can never be crossed by a human, the second one can.” 

She looked up at him in shock. “Y-you mean…?” 

“Yup. There exists a deal as ancient as the Shinigami themselves. If you take the deal, then _you_ ,” he pointed at her, “can see the world through the eyes of a Shinigami, and all that that entails.” 

She stared at him thoughtfully for a few minutes. “A deal, huh?” she said at length. “Something like that, with that kind of power… There’s no way I could get something like _that_ for free.” 

“Heh,” Ryuk laughed. “You know, you’re a lot sharper than you give yourself credit for, brat. That’s right. It’s a deal, not charity. The deal is this: you can have the eyes of a Shinigami… in exchange for exactly half of your remaining lifespan. No more, no less. And, once you take the deal, you can never get that lifespan back, ever.” 

She gulped heavily and looked down at the floor. That was… an incredibly steep price to pay. Still… If she got caught by L and sentenced to death, all that extra lifespan _would_ kind of be completely worthless to her. As unpalatable an option as it was, she was in this to win. This wasn’t a game. In order to win… sacrifices would inevitably have to be made. She didn’t want to die young, but better to live a life that’s short and sweet than to die in a hole somewhere while _that_ _infuriating_ _man_ gloated about it right in front of her. 

So, as much as it pained her, she… didn’t really see what other choice she _had_. “Ryuk…” She turned back around to face her computer, steepled her hands in front of her face, and closed her eyes tight. “…Fine. Let’s… let’s make the deal.” 

“Are you sure?” Ryuk asked. “Not that _I_ particularly care, but you realize there’s no turning back once I do this.” 

“Ryuk, it was too late to turn back the moment I decided to walk this path in the first place. It’s far too late for regrets.” 

“Very well,” Ryuk said with an air of finality. “If the eyes of a Shinigami are what you desire, then it’s the eyes of a Shinigami you’ll receive.” He raised his hand and pointed a partly open palm directly at her. A second later, Sayu felt her entire body vibrate painfully all at once, like it was actively fighting against what was being done. And then, her eyes suddenly felt… different than before. Heavier. 

She opened her eyes again, and this time when she saw her reflection in the computer screen, rather than her natural dull brown, her eyes shone a bright vermilion. “With this… I might just be able to gain the upper hand… L. You’ll soon find that no one stands in the way of _true_ justice. Not. Even. You.” 

~o~ 

To say that the mood in the large meeting room for the Japanese Kira Taskforce was palpable would be a laughable understatement. Tensions were quite high in the wake of what L had just done, with the room split almost evenly in half; one half criticizing his methods heavily, and the other half praising his pragmatism and results. 

“Honestly, where does that guy get off? Sacrificing a human life just to make a point?! How can he go around thinking he’s better than Kira when he’s pulling crap like that?!” 

“Yeah, but it was just a death row inmate.” 

“And Kira’s victims are just criminals. What’s your point? We’re still investigating Kira, are we not?” 

“Criminals who haven’t faced a proper trial, no less.” 

“He’s right. A life is still a life, even the life of a criminal.” 

“Sure, but look at how much L managed to accomplish just by doing that. Not only did he prove that Kira exists, he narrowed the search down from the entire world to one small region of Japan! That’s an incredible amount of progress, and not something we would’ve ever accomplished on our own.” 

“So you don’t see anything _wrong_ with the way he did it?! If this kind of thing is acceptable, then why are we even _bothering_ to investigate Kira at all? If that’s the way we operate, then we might as well just bend the knee and let Kira do whatever the hell he wants!” 

Finally, a loud whistle cut right through the tension in the room. “Everyone!” came the welcome voice of Chief Yagami Soichiro. “Why don’t we just calm down and give L a chance to explain himself.” 

In response, a voice emanated from the laptop held in the back of the room by Watari. “ _Actually, to be honest, I figured you people wouldn’t like what I had in mind. I don’t particularly like it, either, but I just didn’t see any other way of flushing out Kira and proving he exists. Sometimes, what’s necessary to solve a case isn’t necessarily the most palatable option, ethically speaking. In any case, what I accomplished through my gambit on the broadcast goes beyond simply proving the existence and location of Kira. After all, I was already well aware of both prior to the broadcast_.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Detective Aizawa. 

“ _What I mean,_ _Mr._ _Detective, is that Kira’s reaction to the bait that I left allowed us to gain a deeper insight into the personality of the_ _flesh and blood_ _human behind the moniker, and indeed, solidified some of my own theories about that very thing that I had going in._ ” 

“So, that means you’ve already completed your profile of the perpetrator?” 

“ _Not quite, but I’m mostly there. I’d say about, seventy percent. Maybe eighty percent. For the remainder, I w_ _ould like you to look into the exact circumstances of the deaths, as well as the exact way the criminals were reported in the media_ _. In particular, I want you to look into whether or not names and faces of victims were properly reported_ _prior to the deaths of the victims, as well as the times of death. These things together could very well be the missing pieces needed to complete the_ _first major section of the_ _puzzle that is Kira._ _Once that’s completed, we can begin our investigation in earnest._ ” 

With that, the officers in the room went back to arguing with each other, and not much else really got done that day. 

~o~ 

Later that night, elsewhere in Japan, Amane Misa was sitting in her apartment, eyes glued to her computer screen as she watched a video of L’s live declaration of war against Kira. 

“Wow,” she said in awe. “L’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?” She looked over at the corner of her desk. On the corner, there sat a newspaper from about two days prior, which held the headline, ‘Prime Suspect in the Amane Family Murder Dies of Heart Attack.’ “Still,” she said, “Kira. I’m rooting for you.” 

~o~ 

In his office in the Tokyo Metropolitan Public Prosecutor’s Office, Mikami Teru was struggling to complete his paperwork for the day, as he sat, transfixed, re-watching the indisputable proof of God's existence for what must have been the fourteenth time in a row. On his desktop computer, a secret anonymous forum for Kira supporters was absolutely abuzz with speculation about what would happen next. 

“God,” he muttered under his breath as he hit replay on the video for the fifteenth time. “I’m with you all the way. I know you can’t lose. Not to such a pitiful person as that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: By the way, for anyone who actually cares (so, basically no one), since Sayu has the Shinigami eyes now, I figured I might as well tell you the full names, ages, and lifespans of Sayu’s group of friends:
> 
> Amakashi Mika (天歌詞美香)
> 
> Age: 15
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 59, from complications caused by chronic back problems, which she adamantly refused to resolve by getting the breast reduction surgery that Yuri offered to pay for seventeen different times
> 
> Nishimoto Yuri (西本百合)
> 
> Age: 15
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 87, from stomach cancer after living a long, successful life, having nine children, thirteen grandchildren, and finally dying after the birth of her third great-grandchild
> 
> Goto Sakura (後藤桜)
> 
> Age: 13
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 48, from getting hit by a bus on her way home from work at a video game development company
> 
> Shinozaki Tsuru (篠崎鶴)
> 
> Age: 14
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 31, of an unknown cause.


	5. Dancing With Shadows, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I don’t typically like doing trigger warnings, but for this one, I kind of feel like I should, just in case. There’s a pretty intense scene later on in the chapter, of the, er, nonconsensual variety, involving a minor. Nothing explicit, though. I’m not a complete monster. I just thought I’d warn you.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter was kind of a pain. It was much slower going than the previous four, between me returning to Houston from San Antonio, and being absolutely exhausted, not to mention sort of losing a bit of motivation. This one is also slower-paced than previous chapters. This is technically the beginning of the Raye Penber arc, but this chapter ended up mostly being a bridge into the arc proper. The next two chapters will be much more action- and 56-D chess-packed, don’t worry.
> 
> Anyways, I don’t own Death Note. Onwards, dogs! Mush! We’ve got a fic to get to! Mush, damn it! *the dogs suddenly stop, causing the sled to keep going due to momentum, sending me flying forward off the sled and landing face first in a snow poff filled with small, fluffy dogs*

“Sayu-cha~n, why are you working so hard~?” Ryuuku whined.

Sayu sat at her desk, scrolling through lists of crime reports on her computer and scribbling away in the notebook. Some of the lists had been purposely altered to prevent Kira from using the information they contained to kill the criminals being reported, but whenever something like that occurred, all she had to do was look for a Kira supporter forum (which had started popping up much more frequently in the week since L’s declaration), and she could find the information she was looking for. She’d even gone out of her way to figure out how to use an onion router in order to gain access to the forums that didn’t show up in regular search engines.

In any case, it was mostly unnecessary, as more often than not, the reporting agencies only omitted (or sometimes, intentionally misspelled) the name. Only on rare occasions did they also omit or blur out the pictures of the criminals. That meant that the investigators hadn’t figured out that she no longer needed the names of criminals in order to judge them. Of course, knowing L, she wouldn’t hold that advantage for long.

“Ryuuku,” she said once she finished writing the twentieth name of the day. “I have a lot of work to do if I intend to create a more peaceful world. And, with my schedule the way it is… Well, between school, cram school, homework, and studying, I also have to make time for a social life. I don’t want to be caught acting suspicious again. Raito-nii nearly figured me out by the second day because of that. And I need time for eating, sleeping, and all the other necessities of life. And all that _on top_ of my duties as Kira. I have my work cut out for me, and not a lot of time in the day to do it. At the end of the day, I’m only one person.”

“Sure, but what about _me?_ ” Ryuuku whined again. “I’m your roommate now, and I get bored easily. Why don’t you take a break and play some video games or something?”

“Actually…” Sayu mumbled, pulling out her cell phone. “I think I can do you one better.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My friend Tsuru-chan said that Misa-Misa is coming to perform in Shibuya tomorrow. The whole gang is coming, along with some boys from our class. I’ve had my eye on a boy named Hanazawa Kakeru for a while, and Tsuru-chan invited him and a bunch of his friends to come too.”

“So, what, are you trying to get laid or something?”

Sayu turned to shoot him a withering glare. “Baka. That’s not the point I’m trying to make. I just thought you might want to go. I don’t know if you’re into pop music, but you might enjoy yourself. It’s something to do for a little while, at least.”

“Huh. You know, it _has_ been a while since I’ve gone to a good party. Most of the ones in the Shinigami world these days are pretty lame.”

“Alright,” Sayu said. Then, with a devious smile on her face, she added, “But, you’re paying for your own entry.”

Ryuuku sat up, a concerned (at least, that’s what it looked like to Sayu) look on his face. “That’s not fair, Sayu-chan~!” Then he stared blankly at her when her grin grew wider and more cat-like. “Wait a second.”

Her kaa-san downstairs could probably hear her laughing and pounding on her desk in response.

~o~

Inside the headquarters of the Kira Taskforce, the mood was pretty much business as usual. Some nameless redshirt was giving the list of the newest Kira victims, and most of the people inside the room were struggling their way through their fourth and fifth cups of coffee of the day. It had been a week since L’s declaration of war against Kira, and in that time, the taskforce had mostly just been keeping tabs on the way in which criminals were reported and their times of death as L had requested.

The monotony was broken by Matsuda giving an announcement. “Uh, in the time since Kira started killing, we’ve, uh, seen a large decrease in the rate of violent crime.”

“Yes, well,” said Yagami Souichirou, “We had expected as much. Are there any other announcements?”

“N-no sir,” Matsuda said awkwardly as he took his seat and lowered his head.

“ _Actually,_ ” came the scrambled voice of L from the back of the room. “ _If you’ve completed your data gathering, I would like to hear your conclusions._ ”

It was Mogi who stood up and cleared his throat. “We’ve kept an eye on the way criminal’s identities are reported, and the conclusion that we’ve come to is that Kira requires an image of the person’s face in order to kill them.”

“ _What about names?_ ” L asked.

“Ah, well,” said Ide, “It seems that Kira doesn’t need those. Even when criminals’ names are misspelled or completely omitted, they still fall victim to Kira.”

“ _Really?_ ” The more observant people in the room could almost hear the raised eyebrow in L’s voice. “ _That’s interesting. Prior to my declaration of war, I concluded that names were required as well as faces._ ”

“Based on what?” asked Aizawa.

“ _Prior to that event, the criminals I was aware of who had died of inexplicable heart attacks had all had both their faces_ and _names properly reported. None whose names were misspelled or omitted were targeted._ ”

Some peoples’ eyes widened at that announcement. “So, what does that mean?” asked Ukita.

“ _Hm… It could simply mean that there were criminals being killed that I wasn’t aware of. We cannot discount that possibility. However…_ ” L went silent for several minutes. A few people thought they could hear the sound of someone slurping a milk shake on the other side of the line. It could’ve just been their imaginations. “ _I think I may be just about ready to give you my profile. I just need one more thing._ ”

“Ah, of course,” said Souichirou, standing up. “Like you said, the times of death of the victims are largely concentrated during evening and late night hours during the week, while a majority of victims’ deaths occur during the weekend.”

“ _It’s as I thought, then._ ”

“Does that mean…?” asked Aizawa.

“ _Yes. I believe I’m ready to give you my profile of Kira._ ” The entire room went deathly silent and everyone turned to face the laptop in Watari’s hands. “ _Based on the concentration of deaths in evening, late night, and weekends, I believe that Kira may be a student._ ”

“A student?!”

“ _Yes. Please reevaluate any assumptions you might have as to whether or not Kira is a student._ ”

“What does that mean?”

“ _Listen. We are dealing with an individual who has very childish notions of justice. This person believes that right and wrong are black and white, and anyone who falls into the black deserves to die._ ” The laptop went silent for a moment. “ _Also, while I wasn’t entirely serious when I said it on the broadcast, I do believe that the person we’re dealing with may have delusions of comic book-esque super heroism._ ”

“Comic book?”

“ _Yes, like classic heroes from comic books. Think Superman, or Son Goku.”_

“Or Momo!”

The whole room turned to look at Matsuda with raised eyebrows. “Who?” asked Ide.

“You know… Momo. From, uh, Magical Princess Minky Momo.” Matsuda looked extremely embarrassed now.

“What?” asked Aizawa.

“Uh… m-my imouto used to watch that show all the time when we were kids.”

“Right, Matsuda-san,” Ukita chuckled. “Your _imouto._ ”

_“A-anyways…_ ” Even L sounded embarrassed. “ _Back on topic. To me, this suggests a fairly youthful approach to complex moral questions. This person has might, and they believe might makes right. Whereas, an adult would likely have a much more nuanced approach to these questions, a child would look at the problems of the world as only good and only evil._ ”

“So, what makes you say that they have a hero complex?” asked Aizawa.

“ _Look at the patterns of the killings; specifically, the types of people being targeted. As far as we’re aware, not a single criminal who has already been tried and convicted has been targeted. All of the victims, without exception, are those criminals who were responsible for crimes which would be considered heinous. A large portion of victims are those criminals who are wanted but haven’t been caught, or have been tried and are clearly guilty, but were acquitted in spite of this; the largest percentage of criminals targeted, however, were those who were in the process of committing a crime when they were killed. What this suggests is that our perpetrator is an individual with a deep-seated psychological need to be the one who swoops in and saves the day._ ”

“Like a comic book superhero!” said Matsuda.

“ _Precisely. That, combined with the times of death of the victims suggests a student. Perhaps high school age, possibly younger._ ” The whole room once again went dead silent.

“High school age?”

“My daughter is high school age.”

“And L said Kira was holed up somewhere in Shinjuku.”

“Kaichou, don’t your kids go to school in Shinjuku?” asked Ukita.

“It could be one of their own classmates.”

“It’s too early to say something like that. Even if this narrows it down, we’re still looking at thousands of potential suspects.”

“Yeah, and besides,” said Matsuda, “just because someone reads comic books made for younger audiences doesn’t mean _they’re_ younger. Plenty of people continue enjoying such things into adulthood.”

“Speaking from experience, Matsuda-san?”

“Shut up!”

“ _No, no. Matsuda-kun is right._ ”

“M-Matsuda-kun? I-I mean, I am?”

“ _On its own, the fact that this individual has delusions of heroism doesn’t necessarily imply youth, but that combined with the times of death might. Now, I want to discuss the criteria that Kira needs to meet in order to kill someone. As I said before, my initial belief was that Kira needed both a name and a face to kill, however, according to your recent data, Kira now only needs a face._ ”

“What does that suggest?”

“ _Hm… I wonder…_ ” L paused for a few minutes, all the while the sound of slurping could vaguely be heard through the laptop. “ _Could it be that Kira felt threatened by my declaration of war?_ ”

“Anyone probably would be.”

“ _Perhaps. Maybe it’s something that would be easier to understand if we knew how Kira conducts his murders. However, if we assume that his ability to kill without being physically present is some supernatural power, then could it be… that Kira can learn a person’s true name simply by looking at them?_ ”

“If that’s true, then there’s no point in trying to obscure or omit a criminal’s name in a news broadcast without also obscuring or omitting the image.”

“ _Indeed. But if he somehow did… something… to gain this ability only_ after _my public declaration of war then… Perhaps the person we’re dealing with has a low sense of self-worth, or low levels of self-confidence. Perhaps both. It also suggests that Kira is prone to rash actions when he feels threatened by someone he believes to be superior to him. Someone whose first response is to lash out violently when he feels that someone could prove to be better than him._

_“In other words, Kira is most likely a clinical Narcissist. He’s a childish individual with a fragile ego who refuses to accept the idea that anyone is better than himself, or knows better than himself. He’s someone who believes himself to be better than others and is utterly fixated on power, and more importantly, on proving his power to other people. He has little to no regard for the lives and feelings of other people, especially if they get in his way, and he has a deep-seated psychological need to be treated as superior and to feel superior. And, he’s intensely envious of anyone he perceives as being better than himself and goes out of his way to prove that they’re not, no matter the cost to himself or others._

_“But, the truth is that he likely has a very low concept of himself, perhaps even an intense inferiority complex. Maybe he’s a younger sibling of someone who has much greater accomplishments and is well-regarded by everyone, while Kira himself has accomplished little, and that makes him feel weak, small, and worthless. He’s spent so many years standing in this person’s shadow and comparing himself to this person that he can’t help but view himself as lesser, even if only unconsciously. Therefore, he fills that hole of worthlessness with delusions of grandiosity and an endless lust for power and approval, in this case, by going around and slaughtering those whom society regards as ‘undesirables,’ thereby making himself feel powerful while also gaining the approval of those who want those undesirable elements cast out._

_“In short, this is my proposed profile of Kira. Kira is a young individual, possibly of high school age or younger, who can kill without having to be present so long as they know what a person looks like, and who has grandiose delusions of comic book-esque super heroism and a clinically narcissistic personality.”_

“Man,” said Matsuda. “Kira seems kinda… sad, when you put it like that.”

“ _Quite, Matsuda-kun, but we mustn’t forget that the person we’re dealing with is a ruthless mass murderer, and that justice must prevail, no matter what._ ”

“R-right,” Matsuda responded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

~o~

Sayu was startled out of her work by a knock at her door. She quickly hid the Death Note under a pile of books and turned off the TV. “Come in!” she called.

She turned around to see Raito-nii standing in the doorway. He had a kind smile on his face. Sayu suddenly became intensely aware of where, exactly, she had the Death Note hidden.

“Hey, Sayu,” said Raito-nii. “Did you want help with your homework?”

“Uh, n-no, but thanks anyways, Raito-nii.” Raito-nii frowned. Sayu smiled back. “Was that all?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said. He turned to leave, but stopped midway. “What’s up with you, lately, Sayu?”

Her heart beat faster. “What do you mean, Raito-nii?”

“Well, it’s just…” He looked off to the side. “You used to come to me for help all the time.”

“Oh, that? Is it a… problem if I don’t?”

“No, not at all. I guess it’s just weird is all.”

“Nothing weird about it.” She smiled at him, trying to hide how nervous he made her.

Raito-nii chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It is kinda nice not having you pester me so much when I’m studying.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” she pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“It’s just a joke. Anyways, I am glad that you’re actually taking your studies seriously for once.” He laughed into his hand when she pouted again. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up being top student in Japan, too. Well, I need to get back to studying. Jaa ne.” He started walking away again, but a thought seemed to occur to him as he did so. He turned back around, looking at her bedroom TV. “Sayu,” he said, “Were you… watching the news a minute ago?”

Her heart about stopped, and she broke out into a cold sweat. This was _not_ a line of questioning that she wanted him to continue unabated. Nothing good could come of that. “Why do you ask?” she asked nervously.

Raito-nii’s brow crinkled. “Well, I thought I heard the droning of a news broadcaster. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Sayu.”

“I, uh, just use it for background noise while I’m studying. Music is too distracting for me, you know?”

“Is that right?” He looked down at the floor. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard about all this Kira business, have you?”

If it was possible, her cold sweat got even colder. “Well, I mean, it’s kinda hard not to. It’s all anyone’s talking about these days. Even my friends at school won’t stop talking about it.”

“I see. What do you think about it?”

“I don’t really. My friend Mika-chan thinks he’s pretty cool, but I think she’s just saying that to be a contrarian because Yuri-chan says he should just leave dealing with criminals to the police. Honestly, though, that stuff’s all over my head.”

“Oh,” Raito-nii said.

“What about you, Raito-nii?”

“Me?” He rubbed his chin, looking off to the side. “Well, to be honest, I think Kira is someone who’s doing what he thinks is right.” Sayu raised an eyebrow. That… wasn’t the response she’d been expecting. Not at all. “Of course, I think if he really wanted to catch bad guys, he should’ve just become a police officer.”

‘Not that that’s exactly possible,’ Sayu thought. “Maybe he thinks the police can’t make enough of a dent, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at tou-san. The insane hours he works, to the point where his wife and kids almost never see him. He puts in all that time and energy, and what does he get in return? How much of a dent does all his hard work actually put into crime rates? And how many despicable people end up walking free because of small errors in processing?”

“Huh,” said Raito-nii. “I guess I never thought about it like that.” He looked at her oddly, which made her rather uncomfortable. “You know, for someone who doesn’t really think about stuff like that, you sure have put a lot of thought into it.”

Sayu blushed furiously. “Oh, uh, well,” she sputtered. “M-maybe it’s all the news I’ve been watching.”

“Heh,” Raito-nii chuckled. “Maybe.”

With that, he left, leaving Sayu a nervous wreck. She couldn’t even be sure he _realized_ how nervous he’d made her. Or, maybe, throwing her off her game had been his plan from the start. Either way, she didn’t want him finding her out, so maybe it would be best to try to keep him at a distance.

“Ryuuku,” she said once her frayed nerves calmed a bit. “You don’t think… Raito-nii… is suspicious of me, do you?”

Ryuuku looked at her oddly. “How should I know?” He scratched his chin and crinkled his brow (at least, Sayu thought that’s what he was doing). “Although, it did kinda seem like he was interrogating you, but trying to play it off like he wasn’t.”

She took a deep breath. “Damn it.” She ran a hand through her hair. “This is not good. Just what is he planning?”

~o~

“Sayu-chan,” said kaa-san, the next morning. Sayu was lounging on a couch in the living room, eating a bag of potato chips and re-watching Ryuuga Hidekkun’s latest movie for the seventeenth time.

“What’s up, kaa-san?” she asked.

“Do you think you could go bring your otou-san a change of clothes?” She held up a paper bag.

Normally, Sayu might have complained about having to do something like that, but a thought occurred to her. “Sure, kaa-san.” She stood up and grabbed the bag.

Kaa-san smiled good-naturedly. “Doumo, Sayu-chan.”

Sayu went upstairs and put on her purple cardigan over her black long sleeve, wrapped an amethyst color scarf around her shoulders, and swapped her pajama pants out for black skinny jeans. She went in the bathroom and brushed her hair before putting it up in a ponytail and tying it with a black scrunchie. She grabbed an apple off the dining room table on her way out the door, and put on a pair of knee high black boots in the entry area. Once outside, she was greeted by the biting December cold. She took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air, and tossed the apple over her shoulder. Without even looking back, she knew that Ryuuku had caught the apple like a soccer goalkeeper.

She and Ryuuku walked (or flew, in Ryuuku’s case) in comfortable silence. Only when the NPA building was in sight did Ryuuku decide to voice his thoughts. “Hold on, Sayu-chan. That’s the police headquarters. Isn’t that the place you want to avoid at all costs?”

“You really don’t pay much attention, do you Ryuuku?” she asked, a cat-like grin on her face. “Just watch.”

“I really wish you’d show me a little more respect,” Ryuuku pouted.

“And I wish you wouldn’t be such a freeloader,” Sayu retorted. “We can’t all have everything we want.”

“Hmph.”

“Oh hey, Sayu-chan,” came the greeting of the desk clerk as soon as she walked inside. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Koizumi-san. You’re looking sharp,” she winked at him, causing him to develop a bit of a blush on his cheeks.

“Thanks, Sayu-chan.” He gave her a warm smile. “I’m surprised you remember my name. Everyone seems to forget about the desk clerk.”

“Well, what can I say? I guess I just have a good memory,” she said, trying not to make it obvious that she was looking at the name, Koizumi Choujurou, floating above his head. “Uh, anyways,” she started, holding up the bag in her hand.

“Ah, right. Your otou-san’s in an important meeting right now. I think Matsuda-san is free though. I’ll give him a call. In the meantime, why don’t you take a seat, or help yourself to something in the vending machine?”

Sayu sat down at an empty chair on the end of a row along the wall, Ryuuku standing in the empty space next to her. “So, papa’s a policeman. No wonder you’re so confident.” She smirked inconspicuously.

A few minutes later, a young detective in a dark blue suit arrived in the lobby. Sayu stood up and smiled at him, trying her best not to be conspicuous as she looked at the name and lifespan above his head. Matsuda Touta, with a little over sixty years left to live. It was already starting to become an unconscious thing for her.

“Ohayou, Sayu-chan,” he said, waving at her, a friendly smile on his face.

“Ohayou, Matsuda-san,” she said, holding the bag out to him. “I know you’re probably busy, so thanks.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he said, accepting the bag. “Though it _has_ been a pretty busy week, what with all this Kira stuff.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she said, doing her college best to maintain a straight face. “So, you’re on the Kira Taskforce, Matsuda-san?”

“Yeah. I can’t say much, though.”

“I understand…” She looked away thoughtfully. “So, what’s L like?”

“L? Oh, well he’s… interesting.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s really, _really_ good. Like, it’s crazy.” He looked over both shoulders before leaning in. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s narrowed it down pretty far.”

“Yeah, I saw on the broadcast. That was pretty crazy.”

“It’s more than that, though. He’s not only narrowed it down from the whole world to the Shinjuku area, he’s narrowed it down to students in the Shinjuku area.”

Sayu’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Something about the timing of the murders. He said that points to a student.”

“Really?”

“Oh, and apparently, Kira only needs a face to kill. It’s pretty crazy stuff.”

“I see. Ano, Matsuda-san.”

“What’s up, Sayu-chan?”

She looked off to the side. “Oh, nothing. I just… thought maybe you’d like to take a break. You see, me and a bunch of friends from school are going to see Misa-Misa tonight.”

“Really? That sounds fun.”

“Yeah. I’m really excited. She’s performing at this place in Shibuya at 7 PM. It’s on her website.”

“Ah, I probably shouldn’t, what with all the work I have, but… I guess it _would_ be pretty good to let loose for a little while.”

“Yeah! My thoughts exactly. And who knows,” she put on a cat-like grin, “Maybe you’ll meet a cute girl while you’re there.”

He blushed furiously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah. I’m not any good at that stuff.”

“I don’t know. Women love a cute career man in a sharp suit. You’ll probably be swimming in it by the end of the night.”

If it was possible, he blushed even harder. “Y-you think I’m –”

“Well, jaa ne, Matsuda-san,” she said, turning toward the door and waving. “I’ve got homework to do before all that.”

Outside the building, Ryuuku started laughing like a madman (mad god?). “Oh man, Sayu-chan,” he managed to choke out through his laughter, “That guy’s a complete idiot. He didn’t even _realize_ you were playing him like a fiddle.”

“What can I say?” she said haughtily, putting her hands on her hips as she walked. “Men can’t help but let down their guard around a cute, harmless girl. They’re just too easy.” She looked up thoughtfully, an index finger on her chin. “So, L suspects a student, does he?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty close to figurin’ you out. He even knows you only need a face to kill. It’s lookin’ pretty bad for ya.”

“I suspected he would figure out the second one pretty quickly. The first one, though…” She looked forward, a hard expression on her face, hands in her jacket pockets. “If he suspects a student, that’s a problem. I’ll have to relieve him of that notion.”

Back at the house, she made up an excuse that she was doing homework (she’d already finished all of it) and locked herself in her room. Pulling the Death Note out of its hiding place, she sat down at her desk and read through the rules once again, looking for some way to throw off the investigation.

Looking through the rules again, the third and fifth rules immediately stood out. “Ryuuku,” she said. “Here it says ‘If the cause of death is written in the next 40 seconds of writing the person’s name, it will happen,’ and ‘After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written within the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.’” She scratched her cheek with the eraser of her mechanical pencil. “So, say I write ‘Heart Attack’ as the cause of death. Would I be able to write details like when the heart attack occurs afterwards?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ryuuku said.

“I see.” She took a moment to consider a plan, then switched on her computer and used the onion router to access the deep web. From there, she trolled the depths of the internet until a Kira supporter blog came up. On the blog, there were lists of criminals from various countries awaiting Kira’s judgement. Picking five names at random and writing them down on (non-Death Note) paper, she returned to the regular internet and looked up each name mentioned. The first was wanted in Serbia for trafficking child prostitutes. The second was a Cambodian war criminal wanted by Interpol. The third was an organ harvester operating in West Bengal, India close to the border with Bangladesh who’d been acquitted four different times because the witnesses kept… disappearing. The fourth was the leader of a major opium ring in Afghanistan who was paying local authorities to look the other way. And the fifth was a serial arsonist wanted in Alberta, Canada. Sayu wrote each name as they appeared over the photos of each individual, then wrote “Heart Attack” as the cause of death after each name before adding a time after each cause of death, exactly one hour apart from each other. “Alright, Ryuuku,” she said, leaning back in her chair to take a breather. “The stage is set. Once I’ve confirmed their deaths, I’ll be able to move forward with the plan.

~o~

The energy in the concert venue could best be described as electric. Even after Misa-Misa finished her set, Sayu was still feeling pumped up. Standing in line at the merch table with Mika-chan and Sakura-chan, as well as Kakeru and his friends Ichigaya Ryuuji and Kojima Shinra, it was all she could do to contain the almost manic grin that threatened to split her face. She looked at the clock on her cell phone. 8:00 PM on the dot. That meant that the fourth of her test subjects should have died by now. All the while, she chatted amicably with the group, while subtly touching Kakeru’s arm and back and throwing out subtle compliments his way. Based on the looks he kept giving her, and the way he was talking, he seemed to be getting the message.

She looked around, and found Ryuuku off in another part of the venue, blowing some random people’s hair out of place. She smiled. ‘Looks like he’s having fun,’ she thought. She looked toward a spot close to the stage, where Matsuda (whom she’d introduced to her friends as her cousin Tarou) was busy drunkenly talking with a group of giggling girls with a big dumb smile on his face. She was glad she’d decided to invite him. After all, he could testify that she was at a concert when Kira’s latest victims met their end.

“Sayu-chan,” came the voice of Yuri-chan from her left.

“What’s up?”

Yuri-chan looked distinctly on edge, nervously putting the tips of her index fingers together. “Well, it’s just,” she said, “Tsuru-chan went off somewhere a while ago, but she hasn’t come back. It’s been over thirty minutes. I’m starting to get really worried about her.”

“Did she say where?” asked Shinra.

“She said she was going to the bathroom,” Yuri said, “but when I looked in there, I didn’t find her. I asked around to see if anyone had seen a girl fitting her description, but no one knows anything.”

Sayu nervously scanned the room around her, looking for the kanji that made up Tsuru-chan’s name floating above someone’s head, and after a minute, she spotted it, near the far wall, following another name into an alcove. ‘Found her!’ she thought. “Yuri-chan,” she said, “why don’t we split up? We can cover more ground that way. Kakeru-kun? Ryuuji-kun? Shinra-kun?” She pointing in Matsuda’s direction. “Could you go get Tarou? He may not look it, but he’s pretty good at this sort of thing.” The boys nodded and headed in the direction she’d indicated. Mika-chan and Yuri-chan exchanged glances, nodded simultaneously, and headed off in different directions. “Sakura-chan,” she said, “Could you go check the bathroom one more time? Just in case.” Sakura-chan nodded and headed in that direction. Once she was sure no one was watching her, she pulled a small piece of the Death Note out of her bra and held it crumpled inside her fist as she made her way in the direction of the alcove she’d seen Tsuru-chan’s name walk into.

Her back to the wall, she looked around the corner of the alcove and strained to hear what was going on inside. She saw Tsuru-chan, her brown hair out of its bindings, her top ruffled, her jeans loose, leaning heavily with her back against the wall. She was looking to the side, away from the entrance to the alcove, so Sayu couldn’t see her expression. In front of her stood a much older man with semi-long dark brown hair that was thinning on top, wearing blue jeans, a black Henley, a sloppy black sports coat, and black tennis shoes. He must have been at least mid-40s, maybe older. He had his hands on Tsuru-chan’s hips, moving up and down her body, taking in her most valuable assets. The look on his face could only be described as perverted. Sayu could just see enough of the side of his face from her vantage point that his name floated above his head. Chiba Shinichirou.

“No,” Tsuru-chan weakly mumbled. “We discussed this, Chiba-san. No touching, no kissing, no sex, and never when my friends are around.”

“C’mon, little lady,” said Chiba. “I’ll pay ya double the usual if you’ll let me have some fun with ya.”

“I said no,” Tsuru-chan whimpered as Chiba’s hand grazed her groin.

“Triple?”

Tsuru-chan tried to struggle against him, but her attempts to scratch him were easily deflected and her attempts to bite him resulted in him putting a hand around her throat.

Sayu knew, logically, that she really should let Matsuda handle this, that she shouldn’t use the Death Note here, but at the same time… She could never forgive herself for not doing whatever she could to help one of her best friends. In any case, it was too late now. On her piece of the Death Note read, “Chiba Shinichirou; accident; gets spooked by the appearance of a third party, leaves the venue, walks down the sidewalk away from the venue for thirty minutes, then steps into oncoming traffic and is killed when struck by a vehicle.” She crumpled the paper in her hand and slid it into her pocket, then took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“C’mon, kid,” said Chiba, increasing the pressure of his hand on Tsuru-chan’s groin while moving his other hand around back. She whimpered when his hand rubbed against her butt. Sayu couldn’t see much of Tsuru-chan’s face, but she saw tears running down her cheek. “Just this one time. It won’t take but a few minutes.”

Sayu gritted her teeth and, with firm resolve, stepped into the alcove, hands on her hips. “Oi!” she said. “She said no, kuso yarou. Are you deaf?”

Both Chiba and Tsuru-chan looked at her, relief on Tsuru-chan’s face and shock on Chiba’s. He looked between Sayu and Tsuru-chan and, without a single word, took his hands off Tsuru-chan and booked it out of there. As soon as Chiba was out of sight, Tsuru-chan slid to her knees and put her head in her hands, her shoulders quaking with sobs.

Sayu knelt down next to her and pulled her into a hug. “There, there,” she said softly, “it’s okay. It’s over now.”

“S-Sayu-chan,” Tsuru-chan sobbed. “I-I was so s-scared.”

“Sh,” Sayu whispered, “it’s okay. It’s over now.”

The two sat together like that for several minutes as Tsuru-chan cried her heart out into Sayu’s shoulder and Sayu ran a hand through Tsuru-chan’s hair. After a while, it seemed Tsuru-chan’s tears dried up and she occasionally hiccupped instead. Sayu stood up and searched the floor for Tsuru-chan’s hair ties and Tsuru-chan turned in her spot so Sayu could sit down and fix Tsuru-chan’s hair.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened, Tsuru-chan?” Sayu said, a hint of motherly instinct in her tone.

Tsuru-chan hiccupped and looked down at the floor. “I…”

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

Tsuru-chan was quiet for another couple minutes before she said, “H-how much did you overhear?”

Sayu ran a hand through her hair. “Enough.”

Tsuru-chan looked at her, giving Sayu a good look at her tearstained face, and took a trembling breath. “I…I-I –”

“Like I said, Tsuru-chan,” Sayu said, “It’s okay. You can talk to me. You’re my friend. I won’t judge you.”

Tsuru-chan gave her a small smile and wiped her tears with one arm. With another shuddering breath, she began. “A f-few months ago, my otou-san lost his job. Both my p-parents have been trying to f-find work, but it’s been mostly odd j-jobs.” She gulped. “The bills have gotten pretty b-bad, and the b-bank started threatening to r-repossess the house. My onee-chan… started working at a strip club just to help supplement the household income, but it just wasn’t enough.” She sobbed again, and Sayu rubbed her back. “About s-six or seven weeks ago, my otou-san went to this shady guy and t-took a loan from him. The hope was that he’d b-be able to find steady e-employment soon, but… When he wasn’t able to p-pay back the loan, thugs started c-coming to our house and wrecking things. They th-threatened to take onee-chan and force her t-to ‘work’ off otou-san’s loan. I-I didn’t know what to do. Then, about a m-month ago, I f-found this website. In exchange for money, I w-would meet older men and g-go out on dates with them. The m-money was good. R-really good. I haven’t told anyone else about it. I… I’m just s-so ashamed of it. I m-made sure to establish ground rules so that n-nothing bad happened, but…” She started sobbing again, and Sayu pulled her into another hug.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I appreciate your optimism, S-Sayu-chan, but, it’s n-not. I d-don’t know what to d-do.”

Sayu put her hands on Tsuru-chan’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length, a purposeful look in her eyes. “Maybe there’s nothing you can do, but there is something _I_ can do.”

“Wh-what?” Tsuru-chan asked, bemused.

“What’s that loan shark’s name? Can you tell me that?”

“I-I don’t… What can you do, Sayu-chan?! That guy’s d-dangerous!”

“My tou-san’s a cop, remember? I’ll let him know about your loan shark. He’s busy right now, but I’m sure he can arrange something. Okay?”

Tsuru-chan blinked, her eyes widening. Sayu wasn’t sure how she’d missed it before, but now that she thought about it, Tsuru-chan _had_ looked pretty down in the dumps lately. But now… in those eyes, there was just the faintest glimmer of hope.

“Are you s-sure?” Tsuru-chan asked. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Of course.” Sayu gave her a bright smile. “Just tell me his name.”

Tsuru-chan looked at the floor, a small smile creasing her lips. “It’s Sougetsu Marechiyo. The family name is written with the kanji for ‘grass’ and ‘moon,’ and the given name is written with the kanji for ‘rare,’ ‘thousand,’ and ‘generation,’ if that helps.”

“Right, doumo,” Sayu said, filing the name under ‘Important’ in her mind.

“No, arigatou gozaimasu, Sayu-chan. Y-you saved me.” Tsuru-chan ran a hand through one of her twin tails. “I guess I owe you one, now, eh?”

“Think nothing of it. You’re my friend. You don’t need to do anything.” She stood up and offered Tsuru-chan a hand. “Let’s get back to the others, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Tsuru-chan nodded, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “Oh, but,” her face turned red, “Could you please not tell the others. Just say I got lost or something. I don’t want to ruin everyone else’s night.”

Sayu giggled and shook her head. “You really are a gem, you know that, Tsuru-chan? Always putting others before yourself. But, fine. I’ll do that.”

~o~

“Nee, Ryuuku,” Sayu said as she lounged in her desk chair later that night. Her computer screen displayed the photos of Sougetsu Marechiyo and all of his cohorts. On the desk, the Death Note lay open, showing each name written down as it appeared. Next to each name, the cause of death was written ‘burns to death,’ with one of Sougetsu’s underlings being set as the one who started the fire. After the cause of death for each, the time of death was written, ‘3:00 AM.’

“What’s up, gaki?” he asked, munching away at an apple.

She looked at a poster of Ryuuga Hidekkun on her wall. “Life… isn’t very fair, is it?”

“You’re just figuring that out? I thought you would’ve realized that by now. After all, you’re probably the most unfair person in the world right now.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she snipped.

“What brought this on? Was it that thing that happened to your friend?”

“You saw that?”

“I’ve seen a lot of things. I can guess.”

Sayu nodded, staring at her bed, a certain emptiness filling her eyes. “That’s one thing. The other…” She thought back to the concert. Misa-Misa had more than lived up to expectations. She’d put on a fantastic show. But… “You saw Misa-Misa’s lifespan too, didn’t you?”

“…” Ryuuku went silent.

“She seems so lively. So healthy. So why?” Sayu closed the notebook and stared at the computer screen. “Why does Misa-Misa have less than two weeks to live?”

“How should I know?” Ryuuku said. “Could be an accident, or a violent incident. Like you said, life is unfair. Stuff like that just happens.”

Sayu went silent. Looking at her computer, she opened up a home network and found her tou-san’s network. Entering the family password, she quickly gained access to the classified files she was looking for.

“What’cha doin’?” Ryuuku asked.

“Checking the results of my experiment.”

“Experiment? You mean that thing with the times of death? I already told you it’d work.”

“Yeah, but this way, I can check two things at the same time.” She pulled up the Kira victim file, pressed Alt+F, and searched up the names that she’d written earlier that day. As she expected, the taskforce were already aware of what had happened. They had all been fairly high profile, after all. And, as she’d expected, the time of death as determined by local coroners was an hour apart for each. “The first is whether or not I really can control the times of death with the Death Note, which was a success. The second,” she waved a hand at the computer, “is whether or not I can access police files through the family network without leaving a trace. I guess I’ll know which of those it is if the police come and arrest me at some point in the very near future. If I don’t get arrested for hacking confidential police files, then that means I can use this against L. Which means I can move on to the next stage of the plan.”

“That seems pretty risky, don’t you think, gaki?”

Sayu giggled. “Oh, Ryuuku. When will you learn? This whole thing has been a big risk right from the start. Against a guy as good as L, I need all the advantages I can possibly get. If getting one involves a little bit of risk, well… What’s life without risk?”

“Even risking being arrested?”

“I’m staking my life on this mission. Compared to that, spending some time in jail is nothing. Of course, if that happens, I’d expect you to give that notebook to someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yeah. You see, I’ve been keeping tabs on the goings on within the Kira supporter community, and I’ve come across some people that I think would be well-suited to take my place if something unfortunate, like me being arrested for non-Kira-related reasons, should occur.” She opened up a file folder, with files on about half a dozen people who’d managed to stand out to her in her search. At the top of the list was a file for an up-and-coming young public prosecutor named Mikami Teru. “You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Try not to let that happen, gaki. If it does, then you’ll owe me more apples than you could afford once you get out of jail.” Ryuuku was chuckling at the thought. “Still, I’m impressed that you’ve put so much thought into it.”

“Of course I have, Ryuuku. Even in comic books, a lot of super heroes have sidekicks and people who can come take up their mantle if they die or become otherwise incapacitated. This Kira thing is bigger than me, now, and I’m only one person. I don’t want something happening to me to halt the progress I’ve made. If that happened, then everything I’ve done would be pointless.”

“Good to know.” Ryuuku plucked another apple out of the basket on Sayu’s desk and popped it in his mouth. Sayu, on the other hand, began the next stage of the plan, writing in the notebook that criminals would die every hour on the hour. Things were going smoothly.

~o~

The next morning, Sayu awoke extra early. When kaa-san ambled into the kitchen, it was to find Sayu chopping vegetables and the smell of meat cooking on the stove filling the air.

“Making bentou, Sayu-chan?” she asked.

Sayu stopped what she was doing for a moment and shot kaa-san a small smile. “Yep,” she said, and went back to chopping.

Kaa-san stood next to her and watched her work, a hint of happy confusion in her eyes. Then, her eyes widened marginally when she saw two bentou boxes on the counter. “Oho. Making two, are you? Is there a special boy?” she asked, bumping Sayu with her hip, a knowing smile creasing her lips.

“Well… yeah, but,” Sayu said, dumping the vegetables in a strainer and putting them under the sink faucet, “it’s not for him.”

Kaa-san blinked. Once. Twice. “Eh?”

A soft smile quirked the edges of Sayu’s lips. “It’s for Tsuru-chan. She’s been going through a pretty rough time lately. Her family can barely afford to pay the bills for their house right now. I figured it’s the least I could do to help.”

“Oh, Sayu-chan,” kaa-san san cheerily, “you’re so considerate. I’m sure she’ll be grateful.” With that out of the way, Kaa-san cleaned up a space elsewhere in the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Sayu looked up from her work for a moment, checking the clock on the wall in the dining room. 6:00 AM.

Somewhere else in the world, a wanted criminal collapsed from a sudden, inexplicable heart attack.

Later, she, Raito-nii, and kaa-san were eating breakfast at the dining room table, some program or other playing on the TV in the background. She looked at the clock. 7:00 AM.

Another one bites the dust.

Sayu sat in her classroom, talking with Kakeru. A sideways glance at the clock told her it was 8:00 AM.

Another.

She sat at her desk, trying her hardest to pay attention to sensei’s lecture. A quick glance at the clock. 9:00 AM.

One more corpse for the pile.

And so on and so forth.

She sat in the courtyard, discussing pop idles with Sakura-chan and Tsuru-chan, while Mika-chan and Yuri-chan were off in a corner somewhere, doing… something or other. They’d been pretty vague about it before they left. Sayu pulled out her phone and took a quick look at the time. 4:00 PM.

Counting midnight, that’d be 17 criminal judged, every hour on the hour, most of them while she didn’t have access to the Death Note.

Just as planned.

~o~

Two days later, the Japanese Kira taskforce was in a bit of an uproar over recent news.

“That’s 48 criminals killed, every hour on the hour.”

“Yeah, it’s starting to look like L’s theory about Kira being a student was wrong.”

“I mean, anyone can cut school for a couple days. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“ _Hm_ ” came the voice of L from the laptop in the back of the room. “ _It is beginning to appear that way, isn’t it?_ ”

“So, you’re admitting you were wrong?” asked Aizawa.

“ _Perhaps._ ” There was a pause, and the sound of someone munching on candy could vaguely be heard through the monitor. “ _The differing times of death_ do _seem to indicate that Kira may not be a student after all._ ” Another munch-filled pause. “ _Of course, that could also be what Kira_ wants _us to think._ ”

More than a few eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean by that?” asked Ide.

“ _What I mean is that this could be Kira’s way of saying that he can control the times of death of his victims. In other words, he’s flexing. Also, it’s… interesting… that Kira’s entire killing schedule changed almost immediately after I started suspecting a student, as if to contradict that theory._ ” More munching. “ _How interesting indeed._ ”

~o~

On L’s side, he put the bag of M n’ M’s down and scratched his chin, his mind working like clockwork. There was something he elected not to tell the Japanese taskforce. The simple fact was, Kira had immediately responded to a development in the investigation that he shouldn’t have been able to know about, especially not that quickly. Not only that, but it appeared as if the Japanese police weren’t even aware of anything out of the ordinary on their end. That could only mean…

Maybe L could no longer trust the Japanese police.

Picking up the candy bag again, he glanced through the monitor, at each and every individual present in the Taskforce headquarters, something new coloring his perception of them. Suddenly, he could no longer see them as simple allies, full stop. Now, he saw that they were acting as useful idiots, and without even realizing it, they were playing right into Kira’s hands.

It seemed mumblings inside Taskforce headquarters were suggesting the same of L. That he was incompetent. Untrustworthy. If Kira’s plan was to sew discord in the Kira Taskforce, then he had succeeded in spades. How interesting. Maybe Kira would be more of a challenge than L had initially believed in the wake of the broadcast.

Among the members of the taskforce, there seemed to be one person whom L could put some degree of faith in. On the monitor, Chief Yagami was trying to reestablish order and a level of trust in the Taskforce. Up until now, Yagami had proven himself to be a boon to his investigation. Perhaps… Perhaps it was time to kick things up to the next level. He wouldn’t allow Kira to bask in his victory here. His pride as a detective wouldn’t allow him to do so.

In the interests of strengthening the bond between himself and the Taskforce, perhaps it was time to add another liaison to his roster.

And besides, there was a matter that L needed to discuss with Yagami in private.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, yeah. That happened. For anyone who’s confused, in Japan (and, to a lesser extent, Taiwan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and the United States), there’s a phenomenon called enjo kousai (援助交際), or compensated dating. From Wikipedia, it is the Japanese language term for the practice of older men giving money and/or luxury gifts to attractive young women for their companionship or possibly for sexual favors. The female participants range from school girls (aka JK business) to housewives. Enjo-kousai does not always involve some form of sexual activity. Also, JK stands for joshi kousei (女子高生), or high school girl. Of course, Tsuru isn’t a high school girl, but she’s close enough to the age when Japanese people would normally start high school that it doesn’t matter. This is a real thing that happens in Japanese society. Of course, the practice isn’t legal as it’s considered a distinct form of prostitution (and, sometimes, human trafficking), but there are many in Japan who criticize the government for not doing enough to put a stop to this sort of activity, especially with regards to the underage girls affected by it.
> 
> Anyways, in keeping with the last chapter, here’s a list of names, ages, and lifespans of characters introduced in this chapter:
> 
> Hanazawa Kakeru (花澤かける)
> 
> Age: 14
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 77 of a stroke, after retiring from his career as a soccer player, starting his own small business, and successfully growing it into a large corporation.
> 
> Koizumi Choujurou (小泉長寿郎)
> 
> Age: 24
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 64, in a car crash, exactly one day before he was meant to retire from a long, successful career as a detective.
> 
> Ichigaya Ryuuji (市ヶ谷龍二)
> 
> Age: 14
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 81 of prostate cancer, after a long, successful career as the manager of a large Japanese record label.
> 
> Kojima Shinra (小島新羅)
> 
> Age: 15
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 34 of suicide, after a market crash combined with a series of bad stock trading decisions leaves him financially destitute.
> 
> Chiba Shinichirou (千葉慎一郎)
> 
> Age: 44
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at 47 of a heroin overdose.
> 
> Sougetsu Marechiyo (草月希千代)
> 
> Age: 51
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at age 58, after an angry rival enters his establishment with an automatic weapon and shoots him and several of his employees dead before being killed himself by a stray bullet.


	6. Dancing With Shadows, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Whew. This chapter was a beast. As it stands, at 29 pages and over 13k words in my word processor, this is THE longest chapter I’ve ever written, period. I’m really glad I decided to split this section of the story into parts. I don’t think I’m ready quite yet to write 40k to 50k word chapters.
> 
> Anyways, you may be confused about some of the symbols I’ve chosen to use in this chapter. Because I was struggling with what to use to differentiate character thoughts, dialogue, and quotes in the narrative, I’ve decided to do it thusly:
> 
> “Hello” is dialogue.
> 
> ‘Hello’ is a quote.
> 
> {Hello} is a thought.
> 
> This will remain true for all chapters from here on out.
> 
> Anyways, I don’t own Death Note. If I did, Misa wouldn’t be such a freaking idiot and Mikami (one of my personal favorite characters in the series) would have been introduced much earlier on. Since neither of those things is true, then I simply must assume that I don’t own Death Note. It’s a shame, really.

Raye Penber lounged in a sofa in his hotel room. He’d recently arrived in Japan on assignment (and to finally meet his fiancée’s parents, and wasn’t _that_ both exciting and nerve-wracking?). He was just barely containing the nervous quaking of his hands as he brought his mug of coffee up to his lips.

His laptop was open on a tray in front of him. On screen was displayed a list of people that he was supposed to be tailing. All of them were members of the Japanese police or family of said members. But, that wasn’t what was causing his hands to shake. For his line of work, this was fairly standard stuff. No, what was causing his hands to shake was exactly _who_ he was doing this for.

Speaking of which.

In a small box in the corner of the screen was the private IRC channel that he and his colleagues were using to communicate amongst themselves, as well as with the person who’d hired them. The person, calling themselves ‘L,’ was giving them a very specific set of instructions. Most concerned the nature of the individual they were helping to investigate, the serial killer known to the world as ‘Kira,’ including what L had deduced about Kira’s abilities thus far. There was one thing, though, that L was stressing in particular about how they should conduct their investigations. In particular, they were instructed to make sure that their faces weren’t seen by the subjects of their investigation, at all costs.

This would be an extremely delicate operation.

His fiancée, Naomi Misora, was busying herself with ironing his coat. He knew she was itching to work with him on this investigation. It was written all over her face. He could sympathize with that. He’d probably feel the same way if the roles had been reversed. Still, it _had_ been her decision to leave the Bureau in anticipation of their marriage.

“Raye,” she said, that cute, distinctly Japanese accent coloring her tone. “You make sure not to do anything reckless, okay.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m only tailing some people. I doubt Kira’s actually among them. And, even if he is, it’s not like confronting him is our task. I’ll be fine.”

She finished with her ironing and Raye stood up when she handed the coat to him. “Don’t say things like that, Raye,” she said. “That’s exactly the sort of line that people always say right before they go and get themselves killed.”

He chuckled as he put his coat on and began buttoning it up. “Yeah, maybe you’re right, Naomi,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a passionate kiss, and she put her hands on his chest as she returned it. When they pulled apart, he said, “Still, I need to do this.”

She looked to the side, a light blush on her face. “Yeah, I know. Just be careful.”

“Right.” He let go of her and grabbed a large fedora off the top of the coat rack in the corner of the room, as well as the thick, dark sunglasses from the counter next to it. He walked to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

Before he could walk out the door, Naomi tapped on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the stack of business cards she had held between her index and middle fingers. “You forgot something.”

“R-right, thanks,” he said, sheepishly taking the cards and sticking them in one of the chest pockets of his coat. “Would’ve been pretty bad if I ended up needing it.”

Naomi smirked as he walked out the door, for real this time. {Well,} he thought, {let’s hope _that’s_ not an omen of things to come.}

~o~

Yagami Souichirou stepped out of the taxi cab in front of a large, high-class hotel. After thanking the driver, he took a good look at the building. It wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary, although it looked like it might be a fairly expensive stay. It was a good thing, then, that he wasn’t staying here.

He looked at his watch. He was about thirty minutes early. He was rather nervous, if he was being completely honest. As far as he knew, he might just be the first person ever to meet the ever mysterious L in person. He thought back to the brief conversation he’d had with L in the Taskforce headquarters.

**Flashback**

“ _Ah_ ,” said L. “ _Before you all go about your business, I would like to speak directly to Chief Yagami._ ”

“Me?” Souichirou said, pointing at himself.

“ _Indeed. But, not here._ ” Watari stood and handed Souichirou a business card, containing details for a certain hotel. On the back of the card was a time stamp: 9:00 PM. “ _Meet me at the specified location at the specified time, alone. I have something very important I would like to discuss with you in private._ ”

“O-of course!”

**End Flashback**

As curious as he was to learn what L looked like, he found he was even more curious to know what it was that he wanted to discuss, and why he’d chosen him.

He walked into the hotel lobby, and was greeted by a kindly old man in a business suit, wearing dark sunglasses, his lower face obscured by a doctor’s mask, a wide-brimmed hat shading his upper face. He didn’t recognize this man.

“Ah. Konbanwa, Yagami-san,” the man said. “We’ve been expecting you. Right this way, please.”

Souichirou was about to protest on the basis that he had no idea who this man was, but then it occurred to him that L was taking precautions. After all, he hadn’t managed to go completely unknown for this long by being careless. He elected to say nothing as he was led to an elevator.

One elevator ride and a long hallway later, the man stopped in front of a perfectly ordinary hotel room door. The number on the door was 1723. There was nothing about this door whatsoever that appeared out of the ordinary.

“Before we enter,” the man said, speaking for the first time since they’d met in the lobby, “I would ask that you hand over any cell phones, watches, and other technology to me. I’ll keep it safe and you’ll get everything back before you leave. Just a precaution.” As reluctant as Souichirou was to depart with such things, he understood the reasoning behind it, and handed everything over.

The man opened the door. Upon entering the room, Souichirou was astonished to see how… ordinary everything looked. It almost looked like no had actually been using this room. The man led him through the entry area, through a hallway, and into yet another ordinary-looking room. Well, ordinary, except for the fellow crouching atop a couch facing toward the two men.

This fellow was… certainly unique. He wore slightly baggy, faded jeans, a plain, long-sleeved white shirt, and no socks or shoes. His jet black hair was wild and all over the place. The way he ‘sat’ on the couch was very interesting indeed. Rather than sitting, it was more like crouching, with his feet being the only part of his body that actually seeming to be touching the couch. One of his hands was gripping a shin, as if to keep him relatively upright. ‘Relatively’ being the operative word here, as he seemed to have rather poor posture. In his other hand was a cup of what looked like nothing but sugar cubes, though Souichirou thought he may have seen some amount of dark liquid among the veritable mountain of sugar cubes. The thing that really caught Souichirou’s eye about this man, though, was the red-and-black painted tengu mask obscuring his entire face.

The strange man looked at Souichirou for a long, awkward moment. Then, he pointed two fingers at Souichirou, almost like a gun, and said, “Bang! Bang!”

Souichirou was left absolutely speechless by this display. He’d thought this man odd before, but now he was starting to get worried.

“Yagami-san,” the man said. Souichirou gave him his undivided attention, mostly out of sheer curiosity. “You’re showing me your face right now. If I were Kira, you would already be dead. In the future, please be more careful.”

“Ah, I-I,” Souichirou stammered, trying to regain some level of composure in the wake of that display. “R-right. Sorry.”

“For reasons that you should be able to guess, I’ll be wearing this mask, at least until I can be one hundred percent certain that you’re not Kira. Kira needs a face to kill. So, I hope you can excuse the rudeness.”

“Uh, it’s no problem,” Souichirou said, starting to understand. This man… could he really be _the_ L. It seemed so unlikely, but at the same time, it made way too much sense. “A-ano, L-san –”

“Please,” L said. “I would prefer you not use that name here. From now on, while meeting with me in person, please call me Ryuuzaki.”

“R-right, Ryuuzaki-san. So, if I could –”

“I’ll get straight to the point, Yagami-san,” Ryuuzaki interrupted. He picked up a remote control and clicked a couple buttons. On the wall to Souichirou’s back, a white screen came down with a whir from a role that was nailed to said wall. Then, a projector sitting on a stand across the room from the screen turned on. On the screen was displayed several names, but no images. Souichirou counted twelve in total. Almost seeming to read Souichirou’s mind, Ryuuzaki said, “This is a list of foreign operatives whom I have hired to help in this investigation.”

“Foreign?” Souichirou asked. “What does that mean?”

“These individuals are agents of the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation. As I said, they will be helping in the investigation.”

“Wh-what?!” Souichirou’s blood heated up at the thought. “The FBI?! The FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction to operate on Japanese soil! Do you have permission from the government to bring these people here?!”

“The US and Japanese governments have come to an understanding, yes.”

“Then why haven’t the police been informed of this?!”

“I’m telling you right now, aren’t I?” A vein became visible in Souichirou’s forehead. He had done his best to defend and justify L’s actions in the past, but this was… “In any case, for the time being at least, I would prefer that you didn’t inform the rest of the police about this.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell them?! Give me one good reason!”

L pressed another button, and the image being projected changed to a large array of photos. The thing about them that really caught Souichirou’s attention was that fact he recognized many of the faces contained within. The photos… they were of his colleagues, as well as their families. Even his own family was on there.

“R-Ryuuzaki-san. What is the meaning of this?! I demand an explanation!”

“Yagami-san!” Souichirou backed away. This was the first time he’d ever heard Ryuuzaki raise his voice. “Please. Calm down. The reason why you shouldn’t inform the police is thus.” He waved a hand at the screen. “Recall Kira’s response after I began suspecting that Kira might be a student. Moreover, recall how quickly he responded. Did you not see anything wrong with how quickly Kira learned of a major development in the case? One he _shouldn’t_ have been able to know about? Did it not strike you as odd?”

“I… Are you saying there was a leak?”

“Was, and most likely, still is, Yagami-san. And, while that in and of itself is very concerning, of even graver concern to me is the fact that the Japanese police did not appear to act like anything was wrong. There was a leak, yet it went undetected by the National Police Agency of Japan. Why is that?”

“I… I couldn’t…”

“I believe the reason is clear. The leak went undetected,” Ryuuzaki paused for effect, “because the leak came from within.”

The air in the room seemed to cool, to the point that Souichirou could feel the chill in his very bones. “Th-that can’t be.”

“Yagami-san. Don’t ever look away.” Ryuuzaki stood from his couch, his bad posture becoming even more pronounced. He put a hand on Souichirou’s shoulder. His first instinct was to back away from the contact, but he didn’t. The creepy mask Ryuuzaki wore certainly wasn’t making it easy for him to ignore that instinct. “If you wish to solve this case, you must _never_ avert your eyes from the truth, no matter how difficult or painful that truth may be. The facts tell their own story, whether you want them to or not. And the fact is that Kira was able to gain access to confidential police information without being detected. What conclusion, based on that fact, would you come to?”

Souichirou wavered on his feet, the weight of his responsibility beginning to make itself painfully known. “The conclusion,” he said, a bit quietly, “would be that… the leak came from within. In which case…” Souichirou gulped. He thought of his own family. His two children. “In which case, Kira must be hiding among the Japanese police.”

Ryuuzaki stared at Souichirou for a very long minute. He nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He went back to his couch and resumed his bizarre seated position. “Knowing this, do you honestly believe that it would be a good idea, at this juncture, to let the Japanese police know that we’re aware of this fact? Think about the way Kira responded to the last major development. If he learns that we know this much, he may get desperate, and something very bad may happen. Moreover, think of what it would do to the Taskforce, and the NPA as a whole. The consequences would be disastrous. For the time being, we _must_ keep this close to our chests, for the sake of the investigation, as well as for the sake of maintaining what little order we can within the ranks of the Taskforce.”

Souichirou found a seat in a chair next to a table, and put his head in his hands. The worst part was that he couldn’t find any fault in Ryuuzaki’s arguments. Ryuuzaki’s logic was bulletproof. He wanted to throw up. This was so much worse than he’d ever imagined. And yet, Kira being connected to the police… It made so much sense. Far too much sense.

“Yagami-san,” Ryuuzaki said, breaking the long, uncomfortable silence. “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off? Go see your family. But, remember, close to your chest. No one can know about this. Not even your family.”

“R-right. Arigatou.” He stood up on shaky legs and began to wobble to the door when he was greeted by the mysterious man who had yet to properly introduce himself. On the counter next to him was a briefcase which contained what looked like a Plague Doctor’s mask.

“Yagami-san, there are two more things before you go.” The man indicated the odd-looking mask. “In the future, when coming to meet with Ryuuzaki, as well as when leaving, I would ask that you wear this mask. For your own protection of course.” He closed the briefcase and handed it to Souichirou. “We don’t know what Kira might do, so keeping your identity hidden is a measure which must be taken. If Kira doesn’t know what you look like, then he can do nothing to you.”

“Right. Makes sense,” said Souichirou.

“And the other thing,” the man said, pulling a compact flip phone from his pocket and handing it to Souichirou. “We switch hotels often, so keep this on you so you know when and where you’ll be meeting with Ryuuzaki in the future.”

“Okay.” Souichirou looked at the man for a long moment. “Have… we met somewhere before?”

The man seemed to be smirking under his mask. “Who can say?” With that, he ambled off somewhere else, leaving Souichirou alone with his thoughts.

This case… just got a whole lot more personal.

~o~

The whole time Sayu was walking home with her friends after cram school, she kept getting the strangest sensation, like the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She kept looking behind her, but she saw no one. She could’ve sworn, though, that someone was following them.

Not only that, but the whole group dynamic felt a little off today. Mika-chan and Yuri-chan’s usual bickering felt half-hearted at best. Sakura-chan kept forgetting which video game she was talking about and started talking about something else entirely. Tsuru-chan kept giving her odd looks. Even Ryuuku was unusually quiet. It could just be exhaustion. Still, she was sure she wasn’t the only one who felt like someone was following them.

When she walked inside her house, it was to a sight she hadn’t seen in a while. Tou-san was sitting on the couch in the living room, a bottle of Asahi Super Dry in his hand.

“T-tadaima,” she said, a bit unsure of herself. Out of habit, she looked up at the name and lifespan, and nearly had a heart attack.

“Oh, okaeri, Sayu-chan,” tou-san said. “You’re home late.”

“I-I was at cram school,” she said, trying desperately to keep the shock off her face.

Tou-san looked up at her. Sayu couldn’t quite tell what that look in his eyes was. Maybe something like pride? But, that wasn’t quite right. There were also hints of… sadness in there. There was a rather somber air surrounding tou-san in general. What could tou-san have to be sad about?

Tou-san raised his beer bottle halfway to his lips, but stopped midway and put it down. His elbows on his knees, he stared down at the floor. He looked like he really wanted to say something.

“Uh, anyways,” said Sayu. “I’m gonna go to bed, if you don’t mind.” Tou-san looked up at her again, but didn’t say anything.

The whole time Sayu was brushing her teeth, putting on her pajamas, and spreading out her school uniform for the morning, she couldn’t take her mind off tou-san’s lifespan. Six years. Tou-san had six years left to live. He wouldn’t live to see Sayu’s twenty-first birthday.

Sayu continued writing in the Death Note for another hour or so, but she found it difficult to concentrate with this revelation weighing her down. She didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, either.

~o~

There was definitely someone following her. Every once in a while, she’d look behind her while walking and spot, just out of the corner of her eye, a dark flash as someone rushed to hide. At first, she only really noticed it when she was walking with the group, so she thought (hoped, perhaps) that maybe it was one of Tsuru-chan’s ‘customers.’ That would be a pain in the ass if it were true, but it was a pain in the ass that Sayu could easily deal with. This person, though… they seemed rather professional.

Later on, when Sayu was walking to cram school by herself, she noticed someone following her again. And this time, no one was around. That could only mean one thing. Someone was specifically following _her_ , and they were professional about how they did it, too. There was only one good reason a professional shadow would be stalking her. And it was very unlikely to be her good looks or her womanly figure, either.

{So,} she thought, {the pressure’s on, is it L?}

She couldn’t simply assume that she was the only one being followed at L’s behest. Even so, if he felt he was close enough to start employing tactics like this, then he was far too close for comfort.

At home that night, rather than writing in the Death Note like she usually did, she simply sat at her desk, her fingers steepled in front of her face. The first thing to do was figure out what she’d done to make L suspicious. That would lead her to what group was being monitored in the first place.

But, what was… Sayu really did slap herself in the face this time. How could she be so stupid? The change in killing schedule! The idea had been to punch holes in the theory that Kira was a student (as well as to throw a spanner in L’s works regarding the Japanese police by making them doubt L’s judgement). Of course, L would figure out what her game really was very quickly. If anything, his belief that Kira was a student was likely much stronger than it had been before. On the other hand, Sayu had to assume that the second part of her plan really had succeeded. These sorts of underhanded tactics weren’t tactics the Japanese police tended to employ, which meant that she’d planted a wedge between L and the Japanese police.

Of course, she couldn’t discount the possibility that something else entirely was happening solely on the basis of someone stalking her. She supposed it was entirely possible that this person really was only interested in her body. Of course, the fact that they hadn’t tried anything when she’d been walking (seemingly) alone in the dark punched a hole in that theory. If this person’s goal was to kidnap her and do unspeakable things to her, they’d passed up a golden opportunity.

There was one more thing that strongly hinted at this being related to the Kira investigation. One of the times that Sayu had attempted to get a look at her stalker, for the briefest moment, she’d gotten a good look at the way he was dressed. Namely, his face was heavily obscured by a large hat, thick sunglasses, and a high collar on his coat. Almost as if he’d been specifically warned against allowing his face to be seen. That proved that L was involved, as it still didn’t appear to be commonly known that Kira only needed a face to kill.

That only left the question of exactly what L was trying to accomplish through this. What group was he monitoring specifically? What was the goal?

Sayu had to assume that L knew there’d been a leak inside the Japanese police database. The fact that she wasn’t currently behind bars meant that the Japanese police hadn’t noticed the leak. At this point, that advantage had become a double-edged sword. She could use the Taskforce’s own information against L, but L now knew that she could do that. Which meant…

Which meant that L suspected someone close to the Japanese police, or possibly someone who was deeply embedded within the Japanese police. A member of the force, or someone closely related to one. Sayu had successfully driven yet another wedge between L and the Taskforce. He would be investigating the police, while the police would be wary of L and hesitant to trust him. At the same time, L would be wary about trusting the Japanese police, and would likely attempt to reduce the size of the Taskforce in order to reduce the possible locations from which a leak could spring.

As for the goal, there were only two goals that L could have in this. The first was that he was attempting to catch Kira in the act, possibly learning _how_ Kira kills in the process. Of course, since her stalker didn’t seem to be following her into the school building or cram school, and he couldn’t follow her into her house without being caught, there was a low chance of that being the primary goal. The second was that he was attempting to pressure Kira into making a mistake and giving away more information about his identity. Continuously being deprived of privacy and peace of mind would eventually drive anyone up a wall. Frayed nerves lead to mistakes. Mistakes lead to Kira’s true identity.

Which meant the best way to counter this, at least for the time being, was to act as normally as possible.

Ultimately, though, without knowing how long this would continue, it didn’t matter how long her fuse was. She would eventually make a mistake. It was inevitable. Which meant she had to find a way to put an end to this as quickly as possible, preferably in a way that wouldn’t increase scrutiny on her specifically.

Of course, since her stalker appeared to be taking extreme care not to let his face be seen, that would be… complicated, to say the least.

Sayu stood and retrieved the Death Note from its hiding place. She’d already established that she could control the victim’s time of death. And, the way she’d dealt with Tsuru’s ‘customer’ and loan shark problems told her that she could, to some extent, control a victim’s actions prior to death. However, an attempt to stop a robbery in progress a while back by making one of the criminals shoot his accomplice and then himself had told her that the Death Note couldn’t kill anyone peripherally unless that other person’s name was also written in the Death Note

The question, now, was how much could a person’s actions be controlled before they died? What _was_ the true extent of the Death Note’s capabilities?

She pulled up a page on another Kira supporter forum which contained names of criminals to be judged. The only way to learn the full extent of her abilities would be to push them as far as she could.

Once she knew how far she could push her abilities, she would be able to figure out a way to lure her stalker into the open and show her his face.

{I can do this,} she thought as she cracked her knuckles and began to write.

~o~

L was crouched on the floor, eating some chocolate cake. It’d been two days and nothing new from the FBI yet. As entertaining as the game was, he had to admit, all this waiting around was getting on his nerves. He probably shouldn’t wish such things, but at that moment, he wished that something interesting would happen again.

Of course, Murphy’s Law exists for a reason, and Murphy apparently had a personal vendetta against L. During the next Taskforce meeting, it was revealed that Kira had made a new, very interesting move. On his laptop screen was displayed three images. All of them were pictures of some criminal or another lying on the ground, dead. What was interesting, though, was what else was captured in the images. In one, next to the corpse was a drawing of what looked like an apple in the man’s own blood. In the second, in the hand of the deceased criminal was a slightly crumpled letter; when zoomed in, L could make out writing that spoke of a deep fear of being killed by Kira. In the third, on the floor next to the corpse, also written in the man’s own blood, was a seemingly random note. However, the top characters of the letter seemed to spell out, ‘L, do you know…’

On top of those was a report of a criminal attempting to climb to the top of the Tokyo Tower, but only making it halfway before having a heart attack and falling back to the ground. Then, another report, this time of a wanted criminal attempting to flee the country, apparently by swimming (and making it a surprising distance across the Sea of Japan), while babbling incoherently about the Eifel Tower, before dying of a heart attack shortly before the Japanese Coast Guard caught up with him and fished him out. The sixth and final noteworthy event was a man attempting to draw what looked like a face in his own blood, but the features were too indistinguishable to determine whose face he was trying to draw.

L bit the nail of his thumb. What did all these things mean?

…

…

“Everyone,” he said into the microphone. “When you release reports of these deaths to the media, please refrain from reporting any details other than the mysterious heart attacks.”

 _“What? Why?”_ asked Detective Aizawa.

“It seems that Kira has begun using criminals to perform experiments. Releasing these details would give him the results of his experiments. Therefore, please refrain from reporting these details.”

_“Tch. Using human lives to conduct experiments? So much for ‘justice.’ He’s just a murderer.”_

{Now then, Kira,} L thought. {What are you trying to gain through this? And, more importantly, what will you do next?}

~o~

For a few more days, Tsuru-chan kept giving Sayu funny looks. It was kind of starting to weird her out. Every time she approached her about it, she’d look away and deny it. Either that, or one of the other girls would interrupt their conversation.

Sayu kept thinking back to the night of the concert, going over what had happened again and again in her head. She’d done the right thing. That much was a given. But… is it possible that she made a mistake in going about resolving it the way she’d done? She was starting to wonder if maybe she should’ve just let Matsuda handle the situation. He was a cop after all. That was his job.

Still, it was possible that Tsuru-chan simply wanted to talk to her about her feelings again but kept missing the opportunity. But, there was something in Tsuru-chan’s eyes that said something was wrong.

In the courtyard, one afternoon about three days into her tail, Tsuru-chan finally broke the tension. “Nee, Sayu-chan,” she said, standing up from the bench. The rest of the group looked at her with interest. It was well known that Tsuru-chan tended to be a bit shy and reserved and didn’t often start conversations, so this was an interesting change of pace. For Sayu, though, it could mean any number of things. “Could we talk? In private?” Especially that.

“S-sure, Tsuru-chan.”

As she stood, Tsuru-chan walked at a somewhat brisk pace toward a grassy area around the corner of a nearby wall. While the rest of the group were sharing curious glances, wondering what this could be about, Sayu noted the location of her tail, standing on a nearby roof. She thought she could just make out the slight glint of sun on a pair of binoculars.

Arms crossed behind her back, Sayu found Tsuru-chan leaning against a wall. Her hair was a bit looser than normal, and some of it swayed in the wind in front of her, shading part of her face. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and she was looking at the ground to the right, apparently observing a small but growing ant bed on the ground.

“So,” Sayu started. “What did you want to –?”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Tsuru-chan interrupted, throwing Sayu off completely.

“Wh-what?” Sayu said intelligently.

Tsuru-chan looked directly into her eyes, a look of steely determination hardening her features. “You know what I mean, Sayu-chan. You may have everyone else fooled, but you don’t fool me. We came up from the sandbox together. I’ve been your friend longer than anyone else. I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

Sayu gulped. There was no way. Could she be talking about…?

Tsuru-chan stood up straight and walked toward Sayu, her gaze never leaving Sayu’s eyes. “Ever since that night, I’ve been wondering.” Her face softened ever so slightly. “Well, really, since a few weeks ago, I’ve been wondering about you, but what happened that night really got me thinking.”

“About what?” Sayu asked cautiously. She didn’t want to go jumping to conclusions.

“That man who was assaulting me. Later on, I heard he just happened to get hit by a car not long after he left the venue.” She looked to the right, noticeably away from the direction of Sayu’s stalker. “And then, the next morning, the loan shark who was tearing my family apart just happened to die in a fire that one of his employees started.” She stood there, completely silent for several minutes. “All in one night, so many people who were causing me pain just happened to all die.” She once again looked straight into Sayu’s eyes. “And it just so happened to be the same night that I told you about them.” Her lips quirked up in a half smile. “What an interesting coincidence, right?”

Sayu was pale, her eyes wide, and her heart beating furiously. She felt just a bit light-headed. This couldn’t really be happening, right? “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Tsuru-chan. That man probably just wasn’t paying attention while crossing the street. A-and how many criminals like that loan shark end up pissing people off enough that someone comes and kills them? More than I could count, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” said Tsuru-chan, her gaze hardening. “But, still, all in the same night? And all right after I told you about them? There’s only so much that can be chalked up to coincidence, Sayu-chan.”

“How could I have had anything to do with it? You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re the only person I ever told. The only person in the world who knew what I was going through.” Tsuru-chan’s gaze faltered slightly. “Not only that, but then there’s also that person who’s been following us. At first, I thought maybe they were one of my… Well, you know. But that person is way more professional about it than anyone who’s ever, you know, come to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tsuru-chan. Maybe you just need to lay down or –”

“SAYU!” Tsuru-chan snarled. Sayu was taken aback. She’d never heard Tsuru-chan raise her voice at _anyone_ , before. Not only that, but she hadn’t used an honorific. “Don’t bullshit me. I know you’ve been hiding something. Ever since that day that Kitahara-sensei yelled at you, something has been off about you. But now… I think I understand.”

“Tsuru-chan, please,” Sayu whimpered. “Think about what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Sayu,” she said, still omitting the honorific. Tsuru-chan searched Sayu’s gaze with her eyes. She stepped closer, well into Sayu’s personal space, and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s you, isn’t it, Sayu?” Her eyelids seemed to become heavy. “You’re Ki–”

On the complete spur of the moment, Sayu did the only thing she could think of to keep Tsuru-chan from finishing that sentence. She closed the space between them, putting her left hand behind Tsuru-chan’s head, threading fingers in the other girl’s hair, and pulled her close until they locked lips. Her other hand wrapped around Tsuru-chan’s waist, coming to rest on the small of the other girl’s back.

For a moment, Tsuru-chan stood stock still, shocked and unsure how to respond. Then, she seemed to sort of accept it, putting her other hand on Sayu’s shoulder, and then moving forward until her arms were completely wrapped around the other girl. The two slowly moved until Tsuru-chan’s back was again pressed against the wall. Neither had ever actually kissed anyone before, so both Sayu and Tsuru-chan were unsure of what, exactly to do. A bit of tongue here, some teeth there, and a whole heaping helping of awkward uncertainty and exploration later, they finally parted, panting heavily.

(Over in his hiding place, Raye Penber found himself very much wishing that he could just go home. Why was he having to watch this again?)

“S-Sayu-chan,” Tsuru-chan wheezed. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry… Tsuru-chan,” Sayu panted. She put her left hand on the wall to keep her balance. “I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you. That was wrong of me. But, you were about to say something incredibly troublesome.”

“So, it’s true, then.” Tsuru-chan said, leaning her head back against the wall and half-closing her eyes. “It really is you.”

Sayu pulled closer again, this time, resting her head on Tsuru-chan’s right shoulder, twining the fingers of her right hand through the other girl’s hair, and resting her left hand on her waist. She purposely kept her mouth obscured by Tsuru-chan’s neck, just in case her stalker knew how to read lips. “Tsuru-chan, listen very carefully. Whatever you do, you cannot ever breathe a word of this to anyone. Don’t bring it up again. Keep it to yourself, you understand?” Tsuru-chan nodded. “And be careful what you say in public. You never know who might be listening. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“Oh?” Tsuru-chan giggled. “And you don’t think people will get the wrong idea from you making out with me? We _are_ both girls, you know.”

“It was a calculated risk,” Sayu said, more to herself than to Tsuru-chan. “I don’t care if people think I’m a lesbian. That’s by far preferable to the alternative.”

When they parted again, Tsuru-chan was, once again, observing the ant bed to her right. Sayu frowned. She wasn’t sure why, but her chest… hurt. Some part of her almost didn’t want to leave just yet. Still, she had work to do and appearances to maintain. This was… She didn’t even know _what_ this was.

As she walked away, she heard Tsuru-chan mumble under her breath. "Thank you, Sayu. Thank you so much."

Sayu walked back to the group, feeling a plethora of strong emotions, the most prominent of which were confusion, fear, regret and… a peculiar sort of happiness.

~o~

“So, what are you gonna do with that girl you made out with?” Ryuuku asked as he munched on an apple, as casually as if he was discussing the weather. “She knows your secret.”

“I know, Ryuuku.” Sayu bit her lower lip. She could still… taste Tsuru-chan’s lipstick on her lips. The feel of Tsuru-chan’s tongue still lingered on hers. The smell of Tsuru-chan’s perfume. The feel of Tsuru-chan’s hair. The curve of Tsuru-chan’s back and the way she moved as she…

{Damn it,} Sayu thought, shaking her head. {I can’t work like this. I’m too distracted.} She closed the notebook and turned on her TV, flipping the channel to some drama or other. She struggled to pay attention as thoughts of Tsuru-chan continued flooding her mind and disturbing her peace. {Why the hell did I have to go and do something so reckless? Tsuru-chan probably hates me now.}

“So, what will you do about it?” Ryuuku broke the silence again. “Write her name in the Death Note?”

Sayu threw a textbook at Ryuuku, but it passed through him uselessly and landed with a loud thud on the floor. “Don’t you _dare_ suggest anything like that again or I won’t give you anymore apples. You got it?”

“S-sorry, Sayu-chan. I was just throwing out suggestions. It’s not like you’re the first human Death Note user to end up in a situation like this.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Sayu spat.

“If you won’t kill her, then what? She’s just a little girl, and she doesn’t have as much experience with keeping major secrets as you.”

“I’m pretty sure she has _more_ experience with that than I do. After all, she kept her family issues and her compensated dating secret for months.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Ryuuku quietly admitted. “Of course, for some of that time, you _were_ pretty wrapped up in your own little world dealing with your own problems, if you’ll recall.”

“No thanks to you.”

Ryuuku shrugged. “All I’m saying is that one of your friends could have been openly banging that boy you’ve had your eye on during the last few weeks and you probably wouldn’t have noticed or cared much.”

“Jeez. Seriously? Have I really been that bad?”

“Yup. Anyways, all I’m saying is that that gaki is just a little girl. I wonder how long she’d last if she were taken into custody and interrogated by the police. Or, even worse, L himself. I still remember how well _you_ reacted to him outsmarting you.”

Sayu pouted at the memory. L absolutely crushing her in their first interaction was still very fresh in her mind, and she was still sore about it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so humiliated. Still, she had to admit, it _had_ been a humbling experience, and her tactics now were probably better now that she’d realized just _how much_ she would have to step up her game in order to come out on top.

“I’d rather not think about that, but I understand your point.”

“I get that it’s not easy thinking about bad things befalling your friends and family, but like I said at the beginning, you will come to know the pain and fear known only to those who’ve used a Death Note. I think you’re starting to get a feel for the cost of this mission you’ve set for yourself.”

“I get it, but –”

“But what, gaki? What are you going to do? You’ve ruled out killing her, but she’s still a loose end.”

“I thought you weren’t helping me.”

“I’m not. It’s no skin off my bones even if you and everyone you care about dies tomorrow. I’m just trying to get a better understanding.”

“Then understand this.” Sayu stood from her chair, directing a searing glare at Ryuuku. “I. Will not. Ever. Under any circumstances. Kill an innocent person. What kind of hero would I be if did that? At that point, I might as well just go turn myself over to the police.”

“Oh, you won’t kill an _innocent_ person. That’s _very_ admirable of you, gaki.” Ryuuku clapped sarcastically. “But then, if you won’t kill an innocent person, then what does that make the investigators trying to catch you? What does that make your stalker? What does that make L?”

Sayu opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She worked her jaw for a minute and suddenly found the floor unusually interesting at that moment.

“You’ve never really made it clear, so I’ll ask right now since we’re on the subject. Where, exactly, _do_ you draw the line between who is and is not acceptable to kill?”

Sayu froze outright. Her breathing became heavier. She had to sit down to keep from collapsing to the floor. She… couldn’t answer that question. She didn’t _have_ an answer. After all, she’d already crossed an arguably far more important line by taking human life in the first place. Her hands were already irreconcilably drenched in the blood of hundreds, maybe even thousands. She’d long since lost count of how many people she’d ruthlessly murdered. Depending on who you asked, Sayu was currently considered the most prolific serial killer in history. At this point, after everything she’d done, how far _was_ too far?

She put her head in her hands. “No,” she said. “It’s absolutely out of the question. I won’t kill Tsuru-chan, and that’s final.”

“But why, though?” Ryuuku asked. He really seemed genuinely curious. “You’ve never seemed to have much regard for the lives of people who pose a threat to you before. Even people you know personally.”

“I’ve never –” she began indignantly.

“You’ve never _killed_ them, yes. But I’ve been here with you almost this entire time. I was there when you tricked Matsuda into risking his career by leaking classified information, not to mention when you tricked him into being party to your own alibi. I was there when you abused your otou-san’s position to gain access to classified information, risking not only his career, but the livelihood of your entire family.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

Sayu felt like she was going to be sick. Why was this happening to her? Why did _she_ have to be the one who got this stupid notebook? She never wanted this. She would have been perfectly content to continue drifting through life with no real purpose. That’s what kids do, after all. Before all this, she’d still had time to put off thinking about the future. Now, though? Now, she had no choice.

“I’ve already told you my answer, Ryuuku. I’m not changing it.”

“Fine,” Ryuuku shrugged, throwing up his hands and sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Don’t kill her. I don’t care. You still have to do _something_ , though. You can’t just leave her to her own devices forever. You could always start dating her for real, and try to find a way to manipulate or brainwash her into being unwaveringly loyal to you. Of course, even if you sleep with her, something tells me she’ll be a lot more difficult to manipulate than that idiot Matsuda. Or maybe you could distance yourself from her as much as possible. It’s not like _her_ feelings really matter _that_ much in the grand scheme of things.”

“Date her?” Sayu mumbled. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not a lesbian.”

“Is that why you made out with her?”

“Tch. Shut up. What do you know?” It was only to keep her from blurting her secret in front of her stalker. There was nothing more to it than that. Why couldn’t Ryuuku understand that?

“I know you’re putting her in her own special category, considering how differently you approach the subject compared to everyone else you know.”

“Ugh. This conversation is over. I have work to do.” She turned to face her computer and opened up the classified case files. “Hm,” she mumbled. “It looks like my experiments have been a success.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, see this?” She pointed at a photo of an apple drawn in blood. “This guy drew the apple I drew in the notebook, exactly the way I drew it.”

“Heh. No accounting for talent. I guess you won’t be an artist when you grow up, eh?”

“Shut up.” She scrolled down. She pointed at an image of a crumpled letter. “This guy wrote the letter just as I wrote it.”

“Heh, he even has your girly handwriting.”

“I’m gonna smack you.”

“Go ahead and try it, gaki.”

Once the twitch in her left eye was gone, she scrolled further, to an image of the suicide note she’d told had criminal write on the wall. “And again.”

“Oh. Edgy.”

More scrolling. She raised an eyebrow. “Look at this. I was actually expecting the guy to climb all the way to the top of Tokyo Tower. I wonder what happened.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “Maybe he couldn’t physically do it?” Ryuuku shrugged. “So, the Death Note can’t make a person do something they’re not physically capable of doing. Makes sense.”

“Huh?” Ryuuku said, looking at a video of someone swimming in the Sea of Japan. “Why did you have that guy go for a swim? Looking forward to summer or something?”

“I wrote that he’d die in front of the Eifel Tower by that time today after travelling there on foot. Of course, since that’s physically impossible, he just died of a heart attack in the process. Valiant effort, though, I must say.”

“And what’s this drawing supposed to be?” Ryuuku pointed at an indistinguishable image.

“I wrote that he would draw L’s face before he died. Since he doesn’t know what L looks like, he failed to accomplish that.”

“I see. So what all have you learned?”

“I’ve learned that the Death Note can completely control a person’s actions prior to death, but the person can only perform actions that are either physically possible for them to do or that they reasonably could do. See this?” She pointed at a seemingly normal image of a man collapsed from a heart attack. “I wrote that this guy would write ‘I know that L is suspicious of the Japanese police.’ I had expected him to actually do it, but since he can’t possibly actually know that, he didn’t.”

“Oh! This is getting interesting.”

“Combine this with the fact that I can control a person’s time of death down to the exact second _and_ that the Death Note can’t kill anyone peripherally if that person’s name isn’t _also_ written in the Death Note, and I think I’m just about ready to make my move.”

Ryuuku munched on another apple, the sound of which was the only thing that could be heard for several minutes. “So,” he asked. “What are you gonna do if you _do_ manage to find out your stalker’s name? Kill him?”

Sayu took a deep breath. “I think…” she trailed off. “I think he knew what he was signing up for. And besides,” she opened her eyes wide, and the vermilion of her irises shone brightly in her reflection, “anyone who actively tries to stop justice is just as bad as any criminal.”

~o~

_FBI IRC; Private Messaging Log; Signed in as ‘RP’_

L: So, nothing unusual to report?

RP: No, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary in either household so far.

RP: Although, I did witness something a bit different than expected. Nothing suspicious, though.

L: Oh?

RP: Subject-YSayu was observed having… more than friendly relations with one of her female classmates.

L: … I see. You’re correct. That’s nothing to be suspicious about.

L: Although…

L: Were you able to determine anything Subject-YSayu or her friend said?

RP: They were too distant and their mouths kept moving out of visual range, so lip reading was difficult.

RP: However, there appeared to be a heated argument between them, and some references to an event that occurred at a recent concert.

RP: I’ve been unable to determine what event might have been referred to, but I’ll keep looking.

L: You do that.

L: What of Subject-YRaito?

RP: He’s a brilliant kid, and a top level student.

RP: He appears to be taking a keen interest in the Kira case.

RP: Overall, nothing suspicious.

L: He’s interested in the Kira case?

L: I have heard talk that his deductive skills are quite impressive for his age.

RP: It seems that way.

L: …

L: …

L: …

L: In any case, continue your surveillance of the Subject-Y household until further notice.

RP: Of course, sir.

RP: If you don’t mind my asking.

RP: What exactly _is_ the goal of this surveillance?

RP: I ask because something tells me surveillance won’t be enough to catch Kira in the act.

L: The goal is simply to apply pressure to Kira.

L: I don’t doubt that he has no trouble killing even under these circumstances.

L: However, even Kira will eventually crack and make a mistake under enough pressure.

L: And that’s when we’ll make our next move.

RP: Of course.

L: Oh, one more thing.

L: You haven’t had occasion to use _that_ , have you?

RP: No, sir.

L: Good.

L: Make sure you report it in the event that you do.

RP: Right.

L: That will be all for now.

_‘L’ is offline_

~o~

Raye Penber closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair.

“Man, what an exhausting day,” he said. “L’s been working me ragged.”

Naomi smiled softly at him over her shoulder. She was currently in the kitchen preparing tea, wearing an apron… and nothing else. Raye observed her movements carefully, paying particular attention to the sway of her hips and the movement of her rear.

“Hm,” Naomi muttered with a devious smirk on her face. “You do look pretty stressed, Raye.”

She poured the tea into two cups and handed one to him, which he accepted gratefully. When they’d both finished their tea, she sat down on top of his lap and leaned back into him, resting her head on his left shoulder.

He was starting to get distinctly uncomfortable, mainly around his mid-section. “You’re killing me here, Naomi,” he chuckled.

She turned her head to the right and pressed her lips into his neck. “Raye, darling. Do you want me to relieve some of that stress for you?”

“W-we’re not even married, yet, Naomi,” he said, a bit less casually than he’d intended.

“Please, Raye. Do you really think anyone actually waits?”

“What will your parents say?”

“Don’t. Tell. Them.” She emphasized her point by poking his chest after each syllable.

Raye smiled, a bit more relaxed, and ran a hand through Naomi’s hair. “You’re bad. You know that?”

Naomi’s smirk grew wider. “Then punish me,” she giggled.

Raye gulped heavily. {Damn it,} he thought. {It’s too much.}

In one smooth motion (at least, he hoped it was smooth), he put one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, stood up, and carried her bridal style into the bedroom.

Neither of them got a lot of sleep that night.

~o~

The next Saturday morning, Sayu was leaning back in her chair next to her desk, writing in the Death Note. In the background, Ryuuku was juggling three apples. He dropped one and quickly dove and caught it in his mouth, swallowing it whole.

Sayu spun her mechanical pencil between her fingers. She read over what she’d written one more time, making sure she hadn’t missed any details. Satisfied that the stage was as set as it was going to be, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Her eyes focused in on Sakura-chan’s name. Now that she thought about it, it _had_ been a while since she’d hung out with just Sakura-chan, and there was a new game they’d both been wanting to pick up.

Making up her mind, she hit Sakura-chan’s speed dial contact and waited for her to pick up.

 _“Moshi-moshi?”_ came Sakura-chan’s groggy voice on the other end of the line. _“Sayu-chan? What’s up?”_

“Ohayou, Sakura-chan!” Sayu said cheerily. “Wake up sleepy head. It’s nine o’clock in the morning.”

 _“I don’t wanna go to school today, kaa-san,”_ Sakura-chan whined.

“Listen, I was thinking about going to the mall to pick up that game. You wanna come with?”

 _“Game?”_ Sakura-chan seemed to perk up at that. _“Okay! Gimme a minute.”_

“I’ll come over to your place, okay? It’s closer anyways.”

_“Sure!”_

Sayu heard the sounds of someone hopping around on the other end of the line and giggled. “Don’t hurt yourself, Sakura-chan.”

 _“Hmph!”_ Sakura-chan pouted.

“See ya in a bit.” Sayu hung up.

“The stage is set, Ryuuku,” Sayu said haughtily, a vicious smirk on her face. “Now, you just have to sit back and watch the show.”

“I’m so excited. So what’s your plan?”

Sayu’s right eye twitched. “Can’t you read Japanese? I swear. If you don’t already know, then I guess you’ll find out.” She stood up and threw her pajamas on the bed.

“You really shouldn’t be so mean to me.”

“You really should stop being an idiot.” She put on a pair of blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt bearing an image of a stitched heart with an arrow through it, and a red cardigan. Before putting the notebook back in its hiding place, she tore out one page, folded it in quarters, and stuffed it in her bra.

Ryuuku stuck out his tongue, which Sayu pulled on as she walked out the door.

~o~

Raye Penber followed Subject-YSayu, otherwise known as Yagami Sayu, from a safe distance, making sure to keep well out of sight. When she arrived at her friend’s house, he pulled out a copy of Shounen Jump magazine and began reading some random manga or other. Hunter x Hunter, he thought.

When both girls walked out to the road, he took note of one Miss Gotou Sakura with Sayu. An ordinary teenage girl, slightly on the tall side for her age, with chin-length, wavy, pale reddish hair parted down the middle, wearing somewhat loose, torn blue jeans, a red-and-black flannel shirt, and a pair of black and white converse sneakers; she was one of the girls who regularly hung out with Yagami Sayu. Nothing out of the ordinary. They were talking rather excitedly about some new video game. Raye noted nothing that seemed like it could be a code in their speech.

At some point during the trip, they went into a 7-Eleven convenience store. Several minutes later, they walked back out carrying an apple apiece. Raye thought he saw the apple in Sayu’s hand shift in place and almost fall, but she gripped it tighter and took a bite out of it. That was odd.

In any case, all was quiet. It really seemed like this one was normal. No cause for concern at all. Raye wasn’t sure of the wisdom of continuing this, if he was being honest.

For a while, Yagami Sayu and Gotou Sakura walked around the mall, making small talk, checking out clothes and such. Normal teen girl things. When they arrived at the little game outlet, Sakura in particular got excited. Raye had noted prior that Sakura seemed to be the otaku of the group.

Sometime later, the pair walked out of the store. For the briefest moment, he thought he noticed Sayu checking her phone. Whatever. The pair headed to the food court. Huh, a snack sounded pretty good right then. Or maybe just a soda.

While sitting at a table a safe distance away from the pair, Raye looked at his watch. He kind of wished he could go off and buy something. This was getting pretty boring –

There was shouting, and the sound of gunshots in the distance.

{Well, crap,} he thought. {Looks like I spoke to soon. Damn you, Murphy.}

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to immediately go into full cop mode and break character. Instead, he ducked under a table like everyone else. He looked up in the direction that the noises had come from. It looked like three perpetrators, all dressed in black combat-style outfits. He felt like he recognized them. Yeah, he did! Looking more closely, he recognized each one. The Shingai trio: a woman with short brown hair named Uchiyamada Yasuko; and the twins, Tamaki Kazuhiko and Tamaki Akihiko, both with hardened, heavily scarred faces. The Shingai trio were the notorious heavy hitters of a terrorist cult, formerly known as the new religious movement Jiyuu Shinrikyou, who frequently acquired funding by conducting bank robberies, store robberies, and holding hostages for ransom, and who had killed a few dozen people and injured a few hundred in terror attacks, mostly sarin gas attacks in large government buildings.

In other words, this was very bad.

A couple more gunshots were heard, much closer this time. In the confined space, and with everyone much quieter than before, the sound was nearly deafening. He snuck a brief glance in the direction of his target. She and her friend were huddled under a table, and she had her arm wrapped around the redhead’s shoulders as Sakura shook with fear. Both girls looked terrified.

The man in the middle of the trio stepped forward. Identifiable by his long, grizzly black hair tied back in a tight ponytail, Raye recognized him as the older twin, Kazuhiko. The other two leveled their guns, while Kazuhiko held his vertically toward the ceiling.

“Everyone, come out with your hands up,” he commanded, a booming voice leaving little room for argument. “We’re sorry to inconvenience you all, but you’ll be our bait for today. Don’t try anything funny and no one need be harmed. The last thing we wish to do is deprive anyone of their right to life.”

That’s certainly an interesting thing to say, considering everything they’d done in the past. In any case, Raye played along with them. If possible, he preferred to resolve this civilly.

“Aki,” said Kazuhiko. He pointed to a nearby shop which was currently closed for renovation. “Take them in there and keep an eye on them.”

Akihiko, a man with short, spiky black hair with frosted tips, merely nodded in acknowledgement before barking at the crowd to move in a single file line into the indicated store.

“Yasu-chan,” said Kazuhiko. “You know what to do.” The woman nodded and went off to perform her unspoken task.

Inside the shop, you’d have needed a superheated knife to cut the tension in the air. The people inside were sat on the floor as per Akihiko’s instructions, and only a few frantic whispers could be heard. A quick glance over his shoulder told Raye that Sayu was still trying to comfort Sakura. Sayu seemed on edge, but she appear marginally calmer than others in the store. That _could_ be chalked up to having been brought up in a police family. Raye wouldn’t be surprised if the girl’s father had explain to her and her brother about what to do in such situations.

Straining his ears, he just heard Sayu whisper her plan to have everyone rush the gunman at once. While that might work, it was far too risky. Raye had to stop them.

“No,” he whispered, just loud enough that Sayu, her friend, and some others heard him. “Don’t be stupid. That’s too dangerous.”

“Do you have a better plan?” Sayu asked, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “And moreover, how do I know you’re not with them?”

“Eh?” Sakura whimpered. “He’s a terrorist?”

“Raito-nii has told me about this sort of thing before. One or more perpetrators go in acting like civilians to ensure nothing goes wrong and only step in if they do. It makes sense, really. Only three people with guns seems a small number to take over a whole shopping center like this. There could be even more.”

Raye sighed. This was a pain. Based on the girl’s overall academic performance, he honestly hadn’t expected her to be this on top of things. It looked like he’d have to use _that_ after all. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the stack of business cards and handed one to Sayu. The business card was a plain, fairly standard design, with the name ‘Iwamatsu Reigen’ in bold Chinese characters in the center, underneath the descriptor ‘Tokyo Metropolitan Private Investigator,’ and above the address and phone number. He’d checked out the address and phone number and discovered that they actually led to a real fake business establishment which L had taken the effort to set up, with fake government documentation, fake on-call dispatchers, the whole nine yards. Raye was honestly impressed with his work.

Sayu took the card and studied it for a moment. She looked up, putting the card in her pocket. She seemed to accept it, but Raye noted the barest hint of skepticism in her eyes. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered petulantly. “Anyways, you never answered my question, Iwamatsu-san.” Raye could hear the dripping sarcasm in her voice. Was she still suspicious of him? “ _Do_ you have a better plan?”

“The best thing we can do right now is obey their instructions. I’ve been following their case for a while. In general, when conducting a heist, they typically prefer to minimize civilian casualties. It seems it’s mostly people associated with the government that they tend to target. Besides, if we rush that man, sure, we might overpower him and take his gun, but someone could get hurt or worse in the process, and there’s no telling what the other two will do in that situation.”

“Hm,” Sayu hummed lowly.

Sometime later, Raye saw beyond the doors of the shop that Uchiyamada Yasuko had returned to the front area with the manager of the shopping center in tow, her gun pointed at his back. The portly man looked like he was struggling to keep from relieving himself right then and there, he was so terrified. As the man stood between Yasuko and Kazuhiko, Kazuhiko calmly explained what was happening, occasionally pointing at the store with huddled civilians inside, and making a few other gestures, the manager nodding frantically in response. Then, Kazuhiko looked directly at Akihiko, made a couple unidentifiable hand gestures, and the two nodded.

Akihiko turned to face the crowd of terrified civilians, gazing over each one studiously. Then, he walked into the crowd and, seemingly at random, grabbed Sayu by the arm and yanked her to her feet. “You’re coming with me, gaki,” he said. “You’ll be our… negotiating chip.”

Sayu looked around frantically, for a moment resting her gaze on Raye, almost begging for him to do something. Raye, not one to stand by while children get hurt, stood up, causing everyone, including Akihiko, to focus their attention squarely on him. “Wait,” he said, “take me instead.”

“Hell, no,” said Akihiko. “Don’t be a hero, tough guy. Besides, the cops’ll be a lot more willing to think before shooting if we have a little girl than if we have some grown ass man.”

Raye gritted his teeth. He had to do _something_. “Listen,” he said, knowing full well that he may soon come to regret this. “I have contacts in the police. They’ll listen to me.”

Akihiko’s face screwed up, a look of open disdain replacing his previous skepticism. “You’re a fuckin’ pig, then? Why didn’tcha say so before? I love huntin’ cops.”

“Not… exactly,” Raye said carefully, “but I often work with the police.”

“S’good enough for me.” With some force, Akihiko shoved Sayu to the floor and grabbed Raye’s arm instead. Raye looked at Sayu, who was standing up and making her way back to her friend’s side, clenching the arm she’d landed on. He hoped she wasn’t injured. “But first, you gotta take off all that shit on your face.”

{Well, shit,} Raye thought. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. That was precisely what he’d been told _not_ to do by _L_. “Sorry, no can do.”

“What? You got an embarrassing mark or somethin’? Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of.” Akihiko pointed out the nasty scar across the left side of his face, starting from his jaw halfway between his ear and his chin, going up his cheek diagonally, crossing over the bridge of his nose, and ending in the middle of his forehead. “Now take that shit off.”

“I told you, I can’t,” Raye insisted, even knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Fine, come ‘ere, then. I’ll fuckin’ do it for you.” Akihiko lowered the muzzle of his gun to the floor and grabbed Raye’s hat.

Taking the golden opportunity that had just presented itself, Raye tackled Akihiko, slamming his shoulder into the man’s chest. With his left hand, he gripped the muzzle of Akihiko’s gun, and he jabbed his right foot into Akihiko’s stomach, knocking him back. When Akihiko recovered from his daze, he was furious. He stood and rushed Raye, grabbing the gun by its buttstock and slamming it into Raye’s face, knocking him severely off balance and sending his hat flying off his head. Akihiko shifted his grip on his gun.

Akihiko followed that maneuver up with a vicious left hook to Raye’s jaw, throwing off his sunglasses. Raye quickly recovered and countered with a left-handed uppercut to Akihiko’s chin followed by an elbow to the stomach. With Akihiko off balance, he once again gripped the muzzle of the gun.

For a moment, the two men struggled with the gun until it wound up vertical with the muzzle facing the ceiling and two pairs of hands each fighting to wrest control of the gun from the other. Raye wasn’t entirely sure what happened at this point, but somehow, the muzzle ended up underneath Akihiko’s chin, and someone accidentally pulled the trigger in the ensuing struggle. Regardless of who did what, the result was the body of Akihiko lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from a hole in the top of his head, and Raye falling on his ass, a horribly loud ringing drowning everything out, and the room spinning around him.

When the sound of the gunshot was heard, Kazuhiko and Yasuko panicked and ran to see what had happened. Just at that moment, police arrived and, having heard the gunshot, stormed the building. Kazuhiko and Yasuko attempted to put up a fight, but were gunned down by the police, ultimately dying in the process.

Raye, still on the ground, looked over his shoulder, and, for the briefest of moments, locked eyes with Sayu. The look on her face, for just an instant, looked like an expression that didn’t belong, before going back to terrified like everyone else. In his daze, Raye didn’t really give it much thought.

~o~

Once everyone was checked over and had given their statements, Sayu, due to her tou-san being a cop, and Sakura-chan were taken home by a kindly officer. She was still trying to calm Sakura-chan. She’d been more shaken by the experience than Sayu had expected. She offered to let Sakura-chan stay over at her house for a little while and cool off with some video games, but Sakura-chan said she wanted to go home and lie down. Sayu had simply nodded in understanding.

When Sayu arrived at home, she was greeted by her frantic kaa-san, checking her over and making sure she wasn’t hurt. The officer who’d brought her home said that everything was fine, but had handed kaa-san a business card with information for a trauma counselor in case Sayu needed someone to talk to.

When Sayu finally returned to her bedroom, she locked the door, threw her clothes on the bed and let her hair fly loose, sitting down on her chair wearing nothing at all, her long, dark brown hair draped over the back. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling, suddenly very interested in a particular pattern therein.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, laughter began to bubble up from her diaphragm. It was quiet giggling at first. Ryuuku sat off to the side, looking at her oddly, unsure what to make of her current behavior. Her laughter continued, gaining in volume, and becoming increasingly manic, until she was full on bellowing unhinged laughter, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

Raye Penber. That was her stalker’s name. Her laughter increased in intensity at the thought. The fool had tried to trick her with that stupid business card. Iwamatsu Reigen? As if she would ever have believed that. She’d known he was a foreigner the moment he’d opened his mouth. His accent was a dead giveaway. It was a nice try, though. She had to give him that.

Once her laughter subsided, she stood and threw on some shorts and a tank top. She retrieved the Death Note from its hiding place once more and sat back down at her desk. Opening it up to the most recent pages, she found the entries she’d written earlier.

‘Tamaki Kazuhiko: Fatal Gunshot

Enters Shinjuku Marui Honkan with a loaded rifle and takes a group of people in the food court hostage. After giving out instructions to his two subordinates and speaking to the manager, he hears a loud gunshot. He runs to investigate, but is overwhelmed when police arrive and fatally shoot him at 11:25 AM.

Tamaki Akihiko: Fatal Gunshot

Enters Shinjuku Marui Honkan with a loaded rifle and takes a group of people in the food court hostage. After securing his hostages in a nearby shop, he takes a middle school-aged girl as a negotiating chip. However, he’s stopped a heroic bystander, and accepts this other person as a replacement hostage. He gives the heroic bystander an opening to attack him and, after an ensuing struggle, he is accidentally fatally shot in the head by his own rifle at 11:22 AM.

Uchiyamada Yasuko: Fatal Gunshot

Enters Shinjuku Marui Honkan with a loaded rifle and takes of group of people in the food court hostage. After retrieving the manager of the mall and bringing him to the front, she hears a loud gunshot. Runs to investigate, but is overwhelmed when police arrive and fatally shoot her at 11:25 AM.’

The smile etched into Sayu’s face was maniacal. Everything had gone _so_ according to plan, it was actually a little scary. This notebook was an incredible edge. She opened up the web browser in her computer and typed in the name ‘Raye Penber.’ Within seconds, she discovered that her stalker was, in fact, publically registered as an FBI agent. While the idea that she was being investigated by the FBI of all things didn’t exactly sit well with her, it did prove some things. For one, it meant that L really _didn’t_ trust the Japanese police, as he had brought an outside agency in for his investigation. It also meant that there were likely to be more agents in the area doing the same thing as this Raye Penber. Agents who were investigating other possible suspects. That was something she could definitely use.

Some more digging turned up some old cases that Raye Penber had worked, as well as some other agents he’d worked with. The most prominent of these that Sayu turned up was one Naomi Misora, who had previously worked with L himself on a case in Los Angeles, California, a famous case known as the ‘Los Angeles Beyond Birthday Murder Case,’ or LABB case for short. Something very interesting about this woman though was that she’d apparently left the FBI in anticipation of her marriage… to one Raye Penber.

How very interesting indeed.

“So,” Ryuuku said, finally breaking the silence. “What are you gonna do now that you know his name?”

“We already went over this, Ryuuku. I’m going to kill him. But, first, I think I’ll give him a week or so. To investigate other people, as well as to cool down from today’s events. It would be bad if the two were linked and it was discovered that I was present at today’s scene.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ryuuku shrugged. “This is getting pretty exciting.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot more exciting. Just you wa–”

Sayu was cut off by the sound of her cell phone ringing. Maybe it was Sakura-chan? Though, she hadn’t been expecting her to call so soon. Maybe one of the others heard about what happened?

She picked up her phone and immediately registered the words ‘UNKNOWN CALLER’ on the screen. What the hell? She pressed answer and put the receiver to her ear.

The phone was silent for a moment. Mildly annoyed, she said, “Moshi-moshi? Who is this?”

Then… her heart about stopped.

On the other end of the line, she heard the voice that she’d heard in her nightmares. A scrambled voice. Exactly like the one on TV. The voice of –

“ _Ah, hello_ ,” the voice said, a hint of playfulness. “ _Can I assume that I’m currently speaking to one Yagami Sayu-san?_ ”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered.

“ _Good. You may have already guessed by now, but I’ll go ahead and tell you anyways. I…_ ” the voice paused for effect, “ _am L._ ”

Sayu’s hands were shaking, and it was a struggle to keep the phone from falling out of her grasp. Trying to keep her breathing under control, she shakily responded, “L? Y-you mean that guy from the broadcast?”

“ _The very same._ ” The voice’s cool demeanor and flat tone were exactly like she remembered from back then, and every bit as haunting. “ _I hear you’ve had a rather interesting day, Sayu-san. Involved in the hijacking of a mall by a group of wanted terrorists. Very interesting indeed. And how convenient, really, that all three of the perpetrators just so happened to die within minutes of each other._ ” The voice went silent, and Sayu prayed that he couldn’t hear her heartbeat over the phone. In the silence of her room, the normally quiet sound was as loud to her as a gunshot. “ _Not only that, but you got a good look at Iwamatsu-san’s face. You’ll have to forgive me for that. I had, of course, hired out his aid in a separate case I was working, as he has so kindly informed you._ ” Liar.

“Yeah,” Sayu said, barely succeeding at keeping her voice even. “I-it’s a good thing he was there. Th-that terrorist was going to use me as bait, and that man saved me.”

“ _Indeed. It’s very interesting that the terrorist picked you, of all people. Very interesting._ ” Sayu took a deep breath, focusing her thoughts on calming herself down. Now was not the time to panic. “ _If you don’t mind my asking, are you feeling okay? You sound shaken up._ ”

She scowled at the low-handed maneuver. What the hell kind of question was that? “W-well, anyone would be after… you know.”

“ _Oh, I’m sure._ ” The phone was silent for a moment. “ _Wouldn’t it be interesting, though… and, hear me out on this. But wouldn’t it be interesting, since every terrorist who was there met a grisly end, if Kira had been present in that mall?_ ”

Sayu froze, the blood draining from her face. No. This… This couldn’t be happening. This could _not_ be happening. She refused to believe it.

“Th-that would be pretty scary.”

“ _I bet. You should know that I happen to be working directly with your father, Yagami Souichirou-san, on this case. We’ve even met in person. You_ could _say he’s my right-hand man, and closest confidant with regard to this investigation._ ”

Sayu couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was drowning. What might have been a complete nonsequitur to anyone else was a direct slap in the face to her.

“ _Of course, maybe that doesn’t mean much to you. I imagine he won’t be long for this world, now._ ”

“Wh-what?” was the only thing Sayu could say to that.

“ _It’s only logical. After all, Yagami Souichirou-san is a direct threat to Kira._ ”

“I d-don’t see what that –”

“ _And, after all, it is_ you _, isn’t it?”_ Sayu’s mouth was desert dry. What… what was he… he couldn’t mean…

The next words to come out of L’s mouth were spoken with what sounded to her like unshakeable certainty, posed as a question, but spoken as if it was plain fact.

“ _Yagami Sayu-san. You’re Kira… aren’t you?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: You might have guessed, but for those who don’t know, the group of terrorists shown in the chapter are based, at least loosely, on the real life (now defunct) doomsday cult, Aum Shinrikyo, who were notorious for having carried out a sarin gas attack in the city of Matsumoto, Nagano, as well as a deadlier sarin gas attack in the Tokyo metro, both back in the early 90’s. Their leader, Shoko Asahara, was only recently (as in, this year) executed for his crimes.
> 
> I took some liberties with the names, both of the small group, as well as with that of the greater organization. Shingai (震駭) roughly means ‘terror’ or ‘shock,’ and it should be noted that the first kanji literally means ‘earthquake.’ Jiyuu Shinrikyou (自由真理教), on the other hand, is something I completely made up, so I don’t know exactly how grammatically correct it is. However, it’s intended to mean something along the lines of ‘The Ultimate Truth of Freedom,’ and the group has a religious belief that the very existence of governments is evil, meaning they’re philosophical anarchists.
> 
> Anyways, here’s the names, ages, and lifespans of the characters introduced in this chapter:
> 
> Tamaki Kazuhiko (玉木和彦)
> 
> Age: 32
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die in a shootout with police at age 34.
> 
> Tamaki Akihiko (玉木昭彦)
> 
> Age: 32
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die of accidental sarin gas exposure in a botched terrorist attack at age 35.
> 
> Uchiyamada Yasuko (内山田靖子)
> 
> Age: 29
> 
> Lifespan: Supposed to die at age 51 after being arrested for her crimes and sentenced to death.
> 
> And, even though it’s technically a fake name, Iwamatsu Reigen is meant to be written thusly:
> 
> 岩松霊玄


End file.
